edited  by 
J.  Potter  Br iscoe;, 

F.RH.S. 


Edinburgh  : 
T.  &  A.  Constable,  (late)  Printers  to  Her  Majesty 


SANTA  U. 


CM?  r>TT-POENIA' 
.  Co:,.        :  LiBRAi 


INTRODUCTION 


!HE  famous  diarist,  Samuel 
Pepys,  was  born  on  Februar\' 
23,  1632-3,  and  died  May  26, 
1703,  having  lived  during  an 
eventful  jjeriod  in  English 
history,  in  which  he  i)layed  a  not  unimpor- 
tant part.  The  place  of  his  birth  was  either 
Brampton  in  Huntingdonshire,  or  London : 
autliorities  do  not  agree  on  this  point.  His 
father,  John  Pepys,  was  descended  from  an 
old  Cambridgeshire  family,  and  carried  on 
the  business  of  a  tailor  in  London.  Samuel 
was  one  of  a  family  of  eleven  children.  His 
mother  died  in  1667,  and  his  father  in  1680. 

As  a  child,  Samuel  was  boarded  out  at 
Hackney  and  Kingsland.  He  was  educated 
at  Huntingdon,  and  at  St.  Paul's  School, 
London.  Young  Pepys  entered  Trinity  Hall, 
Cambridge,  on  June  21,  1650,  and  early  in 
the  following  3-ear  became  a  sizar  at  Magda- 
lene College  of  the  same  University.  He 
took  his  B.A.  degree  in  1653  and  his  I\I.A. 


vi       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

seven  years  later.  In  the  interval  between 
taking  liis  degrees,  Pepys  married — Decem- 
ber 1,  1655— a  pretty  Huguenot  girl  of  fifteen 
summers,  named  Elizabeth  St.  Michel. 
Shortly  after  this  event,  Pepys  devoted 
himself  to  the  business  of  Sir  Edward 
Montagu,  his  father's  first  cousin,  who  was 
frequently  out  of  town ;  and  in  June  1659 
proceeded  with  his  patron  on  the  expedition 
to  the  Sound.  He  subsequently  became  a 
clerk  to  Sir  George  Downing,  one  of  the 
tellers  of  the  Exchequer. 

The  Diary  was  begun  on  January  1,  1659, 
when  Pepys,  his  wife,  and  a  maid  lived  in 
Axe  Yard,  Westminster,  upon  a  salary  of 
fifty  pounds  a  year.  During  the  same  month 
Pepys,  now  about  twenty-seven  years  of  age, 
was  appointed  a  Clerk  of  the  Council.  In 
the  following  March  he  became  secretary  to 
Sir  Edward  Montagu,  who  had  now  assumed 
command  of  the  fleet  which  brought  Charles 
the  Second  to  this  country.  As  a  reward  for 
his  services,  Pepj's  was  made  Clerk  of  the 
Acts  of  the  Navy,  with  a  seat  on  the  Nav}' 
Board,  and  a  salary  of  £350  a  year,  less  an 
allowance  of  £100  per  annum  to  his  prede- 
cessor in  the  office  until  the  decease  of  that 
'  worthy,  honest  man,'  about  five  years  later. 
Acting  in  this  capacity,  Pepys  resided  in 
official  chambers,  now  demolished,  situated 
between  Seething  Lane  and  Crutched  Friars. 
Pepys  was  '  mightily  pleased '  at  his  appoint- 


INTRODUCTION  Vll 

ment  as  a  Justice  of  the  Peace  at  Michaelmas 
1660,  although  he  was  '  wholly  ignorant '  of 
the  duties  required  of  him  as  a  magistrate. 

Pepvs  continued  to  advance  in  official  and 
social  position.  During  1661-2  he  became  a 
younger  brother  of  the  Trinity  House,  and 
was  given  a  position  on  the  Tangier  Commis- 
sion. He  was  regarded  as  'the  life  of  the 
Navy  Office.'  In  1663-4,  Pejiys  was  ap- 
pointed assistant  to  '  The  Corporation  of  the 
Royal  Fishing ' ;  and  a  year  later  became 
treasurer  of  the  Tangier  Commission.  Later 
in  the  same  year,  Pepys  accepted  the  posi- 
tion of  Surveyor-General  of  the  Victualling 
Office. 

The  Diary  reveals  the  characteristics  and 
occupations  of  Pepys  about  the  periods  of 
the  Plague  and  Fire. 

Pepys  abl}-  defended  the  officials  of  the 
Navy,  and  was  regarded  by  the  Solicitor- 
General  as  the  best  speaker  in  the  country. 
He  was  now  'the  most  important  of  the 
naval  officials.' 

Owing  to  failing  eyesight,  he  abandoned 
the  keeping  of  his  Diary,  a  fact  which  is 
regretted.  He  made  a  trip  to  France  and 
Holland,  shortly  after  which  his  wife  died 
—on  November  10,  1669.  Less  than  three 
years  after,  Pepys  became  '  Secretary  for 
the  Affairs  of  the  Navy';  and  on  Novem- 
ber 4,  1673,  was  elected  M.P.  He  became 
blaster  of  the  Trinity  House  in  1676,  and  in 


Viii     LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

1677  Master  of  the  Cloth  workers'  Company. 
Two  years  later — in  1679 — Pepys  was  elected 
member  for  Harwich. 

Pepys  and  Sir  Anthony  Deane  were  com- 
mitted to  the  Tower,  under  the  Speaker's 
warrant  of  May  22,  1679,  on  a  false  charge 
of  furnishing  information  to  the  French 
Government  respecting  the  English  navy, 
and  were  honourably  discharged,  after  great 
expenditure  of  money,  on  February  12, 
1679-80.  In  the  meantime  he  had  lost  his 
office. 

Pepys  recorded  the  story  of  the  escape  of 
Charles  from  "Worcester  from  the  lips  of  that 
king  when  at  Newmarket.  His  star  was 
soon  in  the  ascendant.  He  received  the 
appointment  of  Secretary  to  the  Admiralty, 
at  a  salar}'  of  £500  a  year,  under  Charles  the 
Second,  who  acted  as  Lord  High  Admiral. 
After  being  an  F.R.S.  for  about  twenty 
years,  Pepys  became  the  President  of  the 
Royal  Society  in  November  1684,  and  was 
re-elected  at  the  close  of  his  year's  tenure 
of  office.  At  the  coronation  of  James  the 
Second,  Pejiys  was  jiresent  in  his  capacity' 
of  a  Baron  of  the  Cinque  Ports ;  and  was 
again  appointed  '  First  Master  of  the  Trinity 
House '  in  1685.  In  Maj'  of  this  year  he  was 
re-elected  member  for  Harwich. 

In  1689,  Pepys  was  again  charged  Avith 
giving  information  to  the  French,  and  com- 
mitted to  the  Gate  House  ;  but  shortly  after- 


I  K  T  R  O  D  U  C  T  I  O  N  IX 

wards  was  permitted  to  return  to  his  home, 
on  the  ground  of  bad  health. 

Pepys  now  returned  to  Clapham,  where 
he  died  May  26,  1703,  and  was  buried  at 
St.  Olave's,  Hart  Street,  London.  Both  his 
fortune  and  his  library  of  3000  volumes 
were  bequeathed  to  his  nephew,  John  Jack- 
son, who  was  the  son  of  his  sister  Paulina. 
On  the  decease  of  Jackson  the  library  was 
handed  over  to  Magdalene  College,  Cam- 
bridge. Fifty  volumes  of  his  mss.  are  in  the 
Bodleian  Library  at  Oxford,  and  other  mss. 
are  in  jirivate  haiids. 

The  manuscript  of  the  Diary  was  housed 
at  Magdalene  until  1825.  It  consists  of 
six  volumes  of  shorthand — the  system  of 
Thomas  Skelton — and  is  closely  written. 
Portions  were  published  in  1825,  under  the 
editorship  of  Lord  Braybrooke.  These  por- 
tions were  deciphered  by  Lord  Grenville  and 
an  undergraduate  named  John  Smith.  The 
Braybrooke  edition  of  the  Diarij  has  been 
frequently  reprinted,  but  was  superseded 
by  the  edition  of  i\Ir.  Mynors  Bright.  The 
most  complete  edition  is  that  of  Mr.  Henry 
B.  "Wheatley,  F.S.A.,  the  well-known  and 
painstaking  antiquarian  writer. 

It  was  not  until  1884  that  a  suitable  monu- 
ment was  erected  in  St.  Olave's  Church  to 
the  memory  of  the  great  diarist.  This  was 
designed  b}'  Sir  Arthur  Blomfield.  At  the 
ceremony  of  unveiling,  an  able  address  was 


X         LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

delivered  by  the  Hon.  J.  Russell  Lowell,  the 
distinguished  man  of  letters,  at  that  time 
holding  the  position  of  Minister  for  the 
United  States  at  the  Court  of  St.  James's. 

The  characteristics  of  the  famous  diarist 
were  so  well  set  forth  hy  Lord  Jeffrey  in 
The  Edinlmrgh  Review,  that  no  apology  is 
tendered  for  reproducing  his  words  here : — 
'Pepys  seems  to  have  been  possessed  of 
the  most  extraordinary  activity,  and  the 
most  indiscriminating,  insatiable,  and  mis- 
cellaneous curiosity  that  ever  prompted  the 
researches,  or  supplied  the  pen,  of  a  daily 
chronicler.  He  finds  time  to  go  to  every 
play,  to  every  execution,  to  every  procession, 
fire,  concert,  row,  trial,  review,  city  feast,  or 
picture  gallery  that  he  can  hear  of.  Nay, 
there  seems  scarcely  to  have  been  a  school 
examination,  a  wedding,  christening,  charity 
sermon,  bull-baiting,  philosophical  meeting, 
or  private  merry-making  in  his  neighbour- 
hood at  which  he  is  not  sure  to  make  his 
ai)pearance,  and  mindful  to  record  all  the 
particulars.  He  is  the  first  to  hear  all  the 
Court  scandal  and  all  the  public  news — to 
observe  the  changes  of  fashion  and  the 
downfall  of  parties  —  to  jnck  up  family 
gossip  and  to  detail  philosophical  intelli- 
gence— to  criticise  every  new  house  or  car- 
riage that  is  built — every  new  book  or  new 
beauty  that  appears — every  measure  the  king 
adopts  and  every  mistress  he  discards.' 


INTRODUCTION  XI 

A  more  thorough  insight  into  the  char- 
acter of  Pepys  than  that  placed  on  record 
by  Jeffrey  is "  the  estimate  formed  by  Mr. 
Osmund  Aiiy,  editor  of  The  Lauderdale 
Letters,  in  the  Eiic>idoj)cedia  Britannica. 
He  writes  :  —  '  The  importance  of  Pepys' 
Diary,  historicalh' speaking,  may  be  summed 
up  by  saying  that  without  it  the  history  of 
the  Court  of  Charles  the  Second  could  not 
have  been  written.  .  .  .  Utterly  destitute 
of  imagination  or  political  knowledge,  Pepys 
could  only  record  the  sights  and  gossip  that 
were  evident  to  all.  It  is  because  he  did  record 
these,  without  hesitation  or  concealment, 
that  from  his  Diar;i  we  can  understand 
the  brillianc}'  and  wickedness  of  the  Court, 
as  well  as  the  social  state  and  daily  life  of 
the  bourgeois  class.  Viewed  in  another  light, 
it  is  unique  as  the  record  of  a  mind  formed 
of  inconsistencies.  .  .  .  Probity  in  word  and 
integrity  in  office,  along  with  self-confessed 
mendacity  and  fraud ;  modesty,  with  in- 
ordinate self-conceit ;  independence  of  mind, 
with  the  vulgarest  striving  after  and  exulta- 
tion at  the  marks  of  respect  which  he 
receives  as  he  rises  in  the  world,  and  at 
little  advantages  gained  over  others ;  high- 
mindedness,  with  sordid  spite  ;  dignity,  with 
buffooner}' ;  strong  common-sense,  with  great 
superstition ;  kindness,  with  brutality  ;  the 
eager  pursuit  of  money,  with  liberality  in 
spending  it, —such  are  a  few  of  the  more 


xii       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

obvious  contrasts.  He  gained  his  reputation 
by  fair  means,  and  yet  was  willing  enough 
to  lie  in  order  to  increase  it ;  he  practised 
extreme  respectability  of  deportment  before 
the  world,  while  he  worshipped  the  most 
abandoned  of  Charles's  mistresses,  and  now 
and  again  gave  loose  rein  to  his  own  very 
indifferent  morals ;  and  he  combined  with 
courage  amid  difficulties  and  devotion  to 
duty  in  the  face  of  almost  certain  death,  a 
personal  poltroonery  to  which  few  men  would 
care  to  confess.  The  best  tribute  to  him  as 
a  man  is  that  in  his  later  years  Evelyn  be- 
came his  firm  and  intimate  friend,  and  that 
he  died  amid  universal  respect.' 

In  this  Bibelot  an  attempt  has  been 
made,  for  the  first  time,  to  bring  together 
under  specific  subject-headings  some  of 
the  many  interesting  phases  of  public  and 
private  life  which  are  scattered  throughout 
the  Diarp.  These  are  arranged  in  chrono- 
logical order,  and  the  date  is  given  at  the  foot 
of  each  excerpt.  It  is  hoped  and  believed  that 
this  little  publication  will  lead  its  readers  to 
make  a  closer  acquaintance  Avitli  the  Diary 
than  hitherto.  J.  P.  B. 


CONTENTS 


INTRODUCTION,         ..... 

I.    OBSKRVAKCES,  .... 

Christenings.  Christmas  Eve.  King's 
Evil.  Marriage.  Maundy  Thurs- 
day. Good  Friday.  May  Dew.  St. 
Thomas's  Day.     Valentines. 

II.    DRES.S,  .... 

Baize.  Breeches.  Buckles.  But 
tons.  Camlet.  Caps.  Cassock 
Cloaks.  Coats.  Doublets.  Em 
broidery.  Ermine.  Feathers.  Hair 
dressings.  Hats.  Hoods.  Jackan 
apes.  Lace.  Mourning.  Patches 
Periwigs.  Petticoats.  Ribbons.  Sac 
Sarcenet.  Shoes.  Silk.  Silver  lace 
Skirts.  Stockings.  Surplice.  Swords 
Tabby dressand suit.  Trains.  Tunics 
Velvet.     Vest.     Waist-clothes. 

III.    SPORTS    AND    PASTIMES, 

Bowling.  Boxing.  Bull-baiting. 
Cock-fighting.  Dancing.  Duelling. 
Fencing.  Fishing  in  Winter.  Foot- 
racing. Handicap.  Hunting.  Nine- 
pins.    Pall-mall.     Skating.     Tennis. 

xiii 


PAGE 
V 


29 


XIV      LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARV 

PAGE 
IV.    DUELLING,       .....  44 

Montagu  —  Cholmely.  Jermyn  — 
Rawlins.  Protected  byarraour.  Fled. 
Bellasses— Porter.  Dead  of  the  duel  ! 
Buckingham — Shrewsbury.  Sir  \V. 
Coventry  challenges  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham  —  committed  to  the 
Tower,  and  subsequently  released. 

V.    PLAYS   AND    PLAYERS,    .  .  .  5 1 

Loyal  Subject.  Kinaston,  a  boy 
actor.  Lincoln's  Inn.  Beggars' 
Bush.  Moone.  Womenon  the  stage. 
Argalus  and  Parthenia.  Change- 
ling. vSalsbury  Court  Theatre.  Queen's 
Mask.  Whitefriars'  Theatre.  The 
Bondman.  Betterton  the  actor.  Love's 
Mistress.  Red  Bull.  All's  Lost  by 
Lust.  Sir  William  Davenant's  Opera. 
Siege  of  Rhodes.  Claracilla.  The 
Wits.  Jovial  Creiu.  Bartholomew 
Fair.  Rhodes.  Adventures  0/ Five 
Hours.  Col.  Tuke,  play-writer. 
Hamlet.  Covtmittee.  Harris,  the 
actor.  Rival  theatres.  Iftdian  Queen. 
Tom  Killigrew.  Rival  Ladies. 
Henry  V.,  by  Lord  Orrery.  Orrery's 
Mustapha.  Nell  Gwjmne.  Othello. 
Love  in  a  Tub.  Custom  of  the  Coun- 
try. Every  Man  itt  his  Humour. 
English  Princess,  or  Richard  III. 
Miss  Davis,  dancer.  Lady  New- 
castle's Humorous  Lovers.  Howard's 
Change  of  Crowns.  Silent  Wotnan. 
Etc.  etc.  etc. 


CONTENTS  XV 

PAGE 
VI.    XELL    GWYNNE,       .  .  .  .  8l 

'Pretty,  witty  Nell."  Eiiglisk  Mon- 
sieur. Humorous  Lieutenant.  '  A 
most  pretty  woman.'  Dryden's 
Maiden  Queen.  English  Princess, 
or  Richard  11 1 .  Nell  dances  in  boy's 
clothes.  '  Pretty  Nelly.'  hidian 
Emperor.  Flora's  Figarys.  '  Nell 
cursed.'  TheSurprisal.  MadCouple. 
Wildgoose  Chase.  Sir  Robert  How- 
ard. Duke  o/Lervia.  Island  Prin- 
cess. '  The  jade  Nell  ...  a  bold, 
merry  slut.' 

vir.  MUSIC,  .....         88 

The  Blind  Beggar.  The  '  Arched 
Viall.'  The  Nature  of  Sounds. 
M.  Grebus,  Master  of  the  King's 
Music.  Organ  at  Westminster.  '  A 
Recorder.'  An  Italian  Company 
before  Royalty. 

I'lII.    BOOKS    AND    BOOKSELLERS,       .  .  96 

Buxlorfs /fed re w  Grammar.  Hook- 
er's Ecclesiastical  Polity.  Selden. 
Grotius.  Butler's  Hjcdibras.  Dug- 
dale's  History  oj  Paul's.  Stow's 
London.  Gesner.  History  0/ Trent. 
Shakespeare.  Jonson.  Beaumont. 
Fuller's  JVorthies.  Cabbala.  Delices 
de  Hollande.  Rush  worth.  Iter 
Boreale.  Evelyn.  Dryden.  Nostra- 
damus. Booker  s  Almanack.  Pepys' 
Catalogue.  Book-plates,  Hobbs's 
Leviathan.  Nott,  bookbinder.  Li/e 
0/ Julius  Ceesar.     Des  Cartes'  .Music. 


XVI       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYS        DIARY 

PAGE 
EX.    THE         CLERGY        AXD        RELIGIOUS 

WORSHIP.  ....  103 

Clergy  and  their  Lands.  Calamy. 
Drunkenness.  '  A  poor,  dry  sermon.' 
'An  indifferent  sermon."  Conduct  in 
Church.  Bishop  Hackett.  '  Brave 
musique. "  The  King  and  the  Lord's 
Supper.  Presbyterian  Ministers.  Con- 
duct of  the  Clergy".  A  Bishop's  '  poor 
sermon.'  Poverty  of  Cle^g^^nen. 
Captain  Cooke  and  his  Singing  Boys. 
St.  George's  Chapel  at  Windsor.  The 
King  and  the  Clergj".  A  'dull,  old- 
fashioned'  Anthem. 

X.  a:s  historic  fair,        .         .         .118 

An  old  custom  re\-ived.  Wrestling. 
Hunting.  Shooting.  A  challenger. 
The  play  of  Bartholomeiv  Fa\-re.  A 
puppet-play.  Stage  play.  Rope- 
dancing.  An  intelligent  mare.  A 
dancing  mare. 

XJ.    COROSATIOX    FESTIMTLES,        .  .  121 

XII.    THE    PLAGXTE    OF    LOXDON".        .  .  I27 

XXLI.    GREAT    FIRE    OF    LOXDOX,  .  .  I35 


LEAVES    FROM 
PEPYS'     DIARY 


OBSERVANCES 

Christenings.  Christmas  Eve.  King's  Evil, 
Marriage.  Maundy  Thursday.  Good 
Friday.  May  Dew.  St.  Thoma.s's  Day. 
Valentines. 

CHRISTENINGS 


OSE  early,  and  put  six  spoons 
and  a  jjorringer  of  silver  in 
my  pocket  to  give  away  to- 
da}-  ...  to  dinner  at  Sir 
"William  Batten's ;  and  then, 
walk  in  the  fine  gardens,  we  went 
Browne's,  where  Sir  W.  Pen  and  I 
were  godfathers,  and  Mrs.  Jordan  and  Ship- 
man  godmothers  to  her  boy.  And  there, 
before  and  after  the  christening,  we  were 
with  the  woman  above  in  her  chamber ;  but 
whether  we  carried  ourselves  well  or  ill,  I 

A 


after  a 
to  Mrs, 


2  LEAVES    rR0  3I     PEPYs'     DIARY 

know  not ;  but  I  was  directed  by  young 
Mrs.  Batten.  One  passage  of  a  lady  that 
eate  wafers  with  her  dog  did  a  little  dis- 
please me.  I  did  give  the  midwife  10s.  and 
the  nurse  5s.  and  the  maid  of  the  house  2s. 
But  for  as  much  I  expected  to  give  the  name 
to  the  childe,  but  did  not  (it  being  called 
John),  I  forbore  then  to  give  my  plate. 

j\Iay  29,  1661. 

DINED  at  home,  and  then  with  mj-  wife 
to  the  Wardrobe,  where  my  Ladj-'s 
child  was  christened  (my  Lord  Crewe  and 
his  Lady,  and  my  Lady  Montagu,  my  Lord's 
mother-in-law,  were  the  witnesses),  and 
named  Katherine  (the  Queen  elect's  name)  ; 
but  to  my  and  all  our  trouble,  the  Parson 
of  the  parish  christened  her,  and  did  not 
sign  the  child  with  the  sign  of  the  cross. 
After  that  was  done,  we  had  a  very  fine 

banquet. 

September  3,  1661. 


TO  m}"  Lord  Crewe's.  M}'  Lord  not 
being  come  home,  I  met  and  staid 
below  with  Captn.  Ferrers,  who  was  come  to 
wait  upon  my  Lady  Jemimah  to  St.  James's, 
she  being  one  of  the  four  ladies  that  hold  up 
the  mantle  at  the  christening  this  afternoon 

of  the  Duke's  child  (a  boy). 

Jttly  22,  1663. 


O  B  S  E  R  ^"  A  X  C  E  .S  3 

TO  Lovett's  house,  where   I   stood  god- 
father.    But  it  was  prett}',  that,  being 
a  Protestant,  a  man  stood  bj'  and  was  my 
proxy  to  answer  for  me.     A  priest  christened 
it,   and  the  boy's  name  is    Samuel.      The 
ceremonies  many,  and  some  foolish.      The 
priest  in  a  gentleman's  dress,  more  than  m}- 
own :  but  is  a  Cai)uchin,  one  of  the  Queen- 
mother's  i^riests.      He   did  give  my  jiroxy 
and    the    woman    proxy    (my    Ladj'  Bills, 
absent,  had  a  proxy  also)  good  advice  to 
bring  up  the  child,  and  at  the  end  that  he 
ought  never  to  marr\-  the  child  nor  the  god- 
mother, nor  the  godmother  the  child  or  the 
godfather :  but,  which  is  strange,  they  say 
the  mother  of  the  child  and  the  godfather 
may  marry.      By   and   b}-  the   Lady   Bills 
come  in,  a  well-bred   but  crooked  woman. 
The  poor  people  of  the  house  had  good  wine, 
and  a  good  cake ;  and  she  a  pretty  woman 
in  her  lying-in  dress.     It  cost  me  near  40s. 
the  whole    christening:    to    midwife    20s., 
nurse  10s.,  maid  2s.  Gd.,  and  the  coach  5s. 

October  i8,  i666. 

CHRISTMAS   EVE 


B 


lY  coach  to  St.  James's,  it  being  about 
six  at  night ;  my  design  being  to  see 
the  ceremonys,  this  night  being  the  eve  of 
Christmas,  at  the  Queene's  chaijcl.  I  got  in 
ahnost  up  to  the  rail,  ami  with  a  great  deal 


4  LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIAKY 

of  patience  staid  from  nine  at  night  to  two 
in  the  morning  in  a  very  great  crowd :  and 
there  expected  but  found  nothing  extra- 
ordinar}',  there  being  nothing  but  a  high 
masse.  The  Queene  was  there,  and  some 
high  ladies.  All  being  done,  I  was  sorry 
for  my  coming,  and  missing  of  what  I 
expected ;  which  was,  to  have  had  a  child 
born  and  dressed  there,  and  a  great  deal  of 
do :  but  we  broke  up,  and  nothing  like  it 
done.  And  there  I  left  people  receiving  the 
Sacrament :  and  the  Queene  gone,  and  ladies ; 
only  my  Lady  Castlemaine,  who  looked 
prettily  in  her  night-clothes.  And  so  took 
my  coach,  which  waited;  and  drank  some 
burnt  wine  at  the  Rose  Tavern  door  while 
the  constables  came,  and  two  or  three  bell- 
men went  by,  it  being  a  fine  light  moonshine 
morning  :  and  so  home  round  the  City. 

December  24,  1667. 


king's  evil 

TO  my  Lord's  lodgings,  where  Tom  Guy 
come  to  me,  and  there  staid  to  see  the 
King  touch  people  for  the  King's  evil.  But 
he  did  not  come  at  all,  it  rayned  so ;  and 
the  poor  people  were  forced  to  stand  all  the 
morning  in  the  rain  in  the  garden.  After- 
ward he  touched  them  in  the  banquetting- 

house. 

Tune  23,  1660. 


OBSERVANCES  5 

T   WEXT  to  the  Banquet-house,  and  there 

■*■      saw  the  King  heale,  the  first  time  that 

ever  I  saw  him  do  it ;   which  he   did  with 

great-  gravity,  and  it  seemed  to  me  to  be  an 

ugly  office  and  a  simple  one. 

April  13,  1661. 

MARRIAGE 

'T^  O  Sir  W.  Batten* s  to  dinner,  he  having 
-*■  a  couple  of  servants  married  to-day ; 
and  so  there  was  a  great  number  of  mer- 
chants, and  others  of  good  quality  on  purpose 
after  dinner  to  make  an  offering,  which, 
Avhen  dinner  was  done,  we  did,  and  I  did 
give  ten  shillings  and  no  more,  though  I 
believe  most  of  the  rest  did  give  more,  and 
did  believe  that  I  did  so  too. 

November  15,  1660. 

MAUNDY   THURSDAY 

"]\ /r  Y  wife  had  been  to-day  at  White  Hall 
^^ ^     to   the    Maundy,    it  being    Maundy 
Thursday ;  but  the  King  did  not  wash  the 
poor  people's  feet  himself,  but  the  Bishop  o 
London  did  it  for  him. 

April  i„  1667. 

GOOD  FRIDAY 

T  T  being  Good  Friday,  our  dinner  was  onh- 
-■-     sugar-sopps  and  fish  ;  the  only  time  that 
we  have  liad  a  Lenten  dinner  all  this  Lent. 

A/>ril  17,  1663. 


6  LEAVES     FROM     PEPYS       DIARY 

MAY-DEW 

MY  wife  awa}'  down  with  Jane  and 
W.  Hewer  to  "Woolwich,  in  order  to 
a  little  aj're  and  to  lie  there  to-night,  and 
so  to  gather  May-dew  to-morrow  morning, 
which  Mrs.  Turner  hath  taught  her  is  the 
only  thing  in  the  world  to  wash  her  face 
with ;  and  I  am  contented  with  it.  I  by 
water  to  Fox-hall,  and  there  walked  in 
Spring-garden.  A  great  deal  of  compau}-, 
and  the  weather  and  garden  pleasant :  and 
it  is  very  pleasaiit  and  cheap  going  thither, 
for  a  man  may  go  to  spend  what  he  will,  or 
nothing,  all  as  one.  But  to  hear  the  nightin- 
gale and  other  birds,  and  hear  fiddles  and 
there  a  harp,  and  here  a  Jew's  trump,  and 
here  laughing,  and  there  fine  peojDle  walking, 

is  mighty  divertising. 

Alay  28,  1667. 

ST.  Thomas's  day 

THEY  told  me  that  this  is  St.  Thomas's, 
and  that  by  an  old  cixstome,  this  day 
the  Exchequer  men  had  formerly,  and  do 
intend  this  night  to  have  a  supper  ;  which  if 
I  could  I  promised  to  come  to,  but  did  not. 
To  my  Lady's,  and  dined  with  her. 

December  21,  1660. 

VALENTINES 

MY  wife  to  Sir  "\V.  Batten's,  and  there 
sat  a  while ;    he  having  yesterday 
sent  my  wife   half-a-dozen  pair  of  gloves, 


OBSERVANCES 


and  a  pair  of  silk  stockings  and  garters,  for 

her  Valentines. 

February  22,  1660-1. 


'T^HIS  evening  nxy  wife  did  with  great 
-■-  pleasure  show  me  her  stock  of  Jewells, 
encreased  by  the  ring  she  hath  made  lately 
as  my  Valentine's  gift  this  3'ear,  a  Turky 
stone  set  with  diamonds  :  and  with  this,  and 
what  she  had,  she  reckons  that  she  hath 
above  £150  worth  of  Jewells  of  one  kind  or 
other  ;  and  I  am  glad  of  it,  for  it  is  fit  the 
wretch  should  have  something  to  content 
herself  with. 

February  23,  1667-8. 


II 

DRESS 

Baize.  Breeches.  Buckles.  Buttons. 
Camlet.  Caps.  Cassock.  Cloaks.  Coats. 
Doublets.  Embroidery.  Ermine.  Feathers. 
Hair-dressings.  Hats.  Hoods.  Jackanapes. 
Lace.  Mourning.  Patches.  Periwigs. 
Petticoats.  Ribbons.  Sac.  Sarcenet. 
Shoes.  Silk.  Silver  lace.  Skirts.  Stock- 
ings. Surplice.  Swords.  Tabbj'  dress  and 
suit.  Trains.  Tunics.  Velvet.  Vest. 
Waist-clothes. 

I  ROSE,  put  on  my  suit  with  great  skirts, 
having    not    lately    worn    any    other 

clothes  but  them. 

January  i,  1659-60. 

'T^O  church  in  the  afternoon  to  Mr.  Her- 
^       ring,  where  a  laz}-  poor  sermon.     This 
(lay  I  began  to  put  on  buckles  to  my  shoes. 

January  22,  1659-60. 
8 


DRESS  9 

AFTER  all  this  I  went  home  on  foot  to 
lay  up  my  money,  and  change  my 
stockings  and  shoes.  I  this  day  left  off  my 
great  skirt  suit,  and  put  on  my  white  suit 
with  silver  lace  coat. 

February  2,  1659-60. 

/COMMISSIONER  RETT  was  now  come 
^^-^  to  take  care  to  get  all  things  ready  for 
the  King  on  board.  My  Lord  in  his  best 
suit,  this  the  first  day,  in  expectation  to 
wait  upon  the  King.  ]Mr.  Edw.  Pickering 
coming  from  the  King  brought  word  that 
the  King  would  not  put  my  Lord  to  the 
trouble  of  coming  to  him,  but  that  he  would 
come  to  the  shoi-e  to  look  upon  the  fleet  to- 
day, which  we  expected,  and  had  our  guns 
ready  to  fire,  and  our  scarlet  waist-cloathes 
out  and  silk  pendants,  but  he  did  not  come. 
This  evening  came  Mr.  John  Pickering  on 
board,  like  an  asse,  with  his  feathers  and 
new  suit  that  he  had  made  at  the  Hague. 
]\Iy  Lord  ver^-  angr}-  for  his  staying  on  shore, 
bidding  me  a  little  before  to  send  for  him, 
telling  me  that  he  was  afraid  that  for  his 
father's  sake  he  might  have  some  mischief 
done  him,  unless  he  used  the  General's 
name.  This  afternoon  Mr.  Edw.  Pickering 
told  me  in  what  a  sad,  poor  condition  for 
clothes  and  money  the  King  was,  and  all  his 
attendants,  when  lie  came  to  him  first  from 
my  Lord,  their  clothes  not  being  worth  forty 


lO       LEAVES     FROM     P  E  P  Y  S  '     DIARY 

shillings  the  best  of  them.  And  how  over- 
joyed the  King  Avas  when  Sir  J.  Greenville 
brought  him  some  money;  so  joyful,  that 
he  called  the  Princess  Royal  and  Duke  of 
York  to  look  upon  it  as  it  la}'  in  the  port- 
manteau before  it  was  taken  out. 

May  i6,  1660. 

UP,  and  made  myself  as  fine  as  I  could, 
with  the  linning  stockings  on  and 
wide  canons  that  I  bought  the  other  day  at 
Hague.  Extraordinary  press  of  noble  com- 
pany, and  great  mirth  all  the  day.  There 
dined  with  me  in  my  cabbin  (that  is,   the 

carpenter's)  .  .  . 

May  24,  1660. 

THIS  morning  come  home  my  fine  Cam- 
lett  cloak,  with  gold  buttons,  and  a 
silk  suit,  which  cost  me  much  money,  and  I 
pra}'  God  to  make  me  able  to  paj'  for  it.  In 
the  afternoon  to  the  Abbey,  where  a  good 
sermon  by  a  stranger,  but  no  Common  Prayer 
yet. 

J  illy  I,  1660. 

'T~^HIS  morning  my  brother  Tom  brought 

^       me  my  jackanapes   coat   with   silver 

buttons.      It    rained   this    morning,    which 

makes  us  fear  that  the  glory  of  this  day  will 

be  lost ;  the  King  and  Parliament  being  to 

be  entertained  by  the  City  to-day  with  great 

pomp. 

July  5,  1660. 


DRESS  II 

'T^HIS  day  I  put  on  my  new  silk  suit,  the 
J-  first  that  ever  I  wore  in  my  life. 
Home,  and  called  my  wife,  and  took  her  to 
Clodins's  to  a  great  wedding  of  Nan  Hartlib 
to  Mynheer  Roder,  which  was  kept  at  Goring 
House  with  very  great  state,  cost,  and  noble 
company.  But  among  all  the  beauties  there, 
my  wife  was  thought  the  greatest. 

July  lo,  1660. 


UP  early,   the   first  day  that  I   put  on 
my   black  camlett    coat  with  silver 

buttons. 

July  13,  1660. 


TO   the  Privy  Seale,  and  thence  to  my 
Lord's,  where  Mr.  Pin  the  taylor,  and 
I  agreed  upon  making  me  a  velvet  coat. 

A^igust  14,  1660. 

THIS  night  "W.  Hewer  brought  me  home 
from  j\Ir.  Pirn's  my  velvet  coat  and 
cap,  the  first  that  ever  I  had. 

August  25,  1660. 

CALLED  at  my  father's  going  home,  and 
bespoke  mourning  for  myself,  for  the 
death  of  the  Duke  of  Gloucester. 

.September  \s^  1G60. 


12        LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

THENCE  to  "White  Hall  garden,  where 
I  saw  the  King  in  purple  mourning 

for  his  brother. 

Septe7nher  i6,  1660. 


I  BOUGHT  a  pair  of  short  black  stockings, 
to  wear  over  a  pair  of  silk  ones  for 
mourning  ;  and  I  met  with  The.  Turner  and 
Joyce,  buying  of  things  to  go  into  mourning 
too  for  the  Duke,  which  is  now  the  mode 
of  all  the  ladies  in  towne.  This  day  Mr. 
Edw.  Pickering  is  come  from  my  Lord, 
and  says  that  he  left  him  well  in  Holland, 
and   that  he  will  be   here  within   three  or 

four  days. 

September  22,  1660 


TO  White  Hall  on  foot,  calling  at  my 
father's  to  change  my  long  black 
cloake  for  a  short  one  (long  cloakes  being 
now  quite  out) ;  but  he  being  gone  to  church, 

I  could  not  get  one. 

October  7,  1660= 


I  DINED  with  my  Lord  and  Lady;  he 
was  very  merry,  and  did  talk  very  high 
how  he  would  have  a  French  cooke,  and  a 
master  of  his  horse,  and  his  lady  and  child 

to  wear  black  patches. 

October  20,  1660. 


DRESS  13 

A  FTER  dinner  to  Westminster,  where  I 
-^~^  went  to  my  Lord's,  and,  having  spoken 
with  him,  I  went  to  the  Abbej',  where  the 
first  time  that  ever  I  lieard  the  organs  in 
a  cathedral.  My  wife  seemed  very  pretty 
to-day,  it  being  the  first  time  I  had  given 
her  leave  to  weare  a  black  patch. 

November  i„  1660. 

'T^HE  Princesse  Henrietta  is  very  pretty, 

-*-       but  much  below  my  expectation  ;  and 

her  dressing  of  herself  with  her  haire  frized 

short  up  to  her  eares,  did  make  her  seem  so 

much  the  less  to  me.     But  my  wife  standing 

near  her  with  two  or  three  black  patches  on, 

and  well    dressed,   did  seem   to  me  much 

handsomer  than  she. 

November  2-2,  1660. 

nPHE  King's  going  from  the  Tower  to 
-*■  "White  Hall.  Up  early  and  made 
mj'self  as  fine  as  I  could,  and  put  on  xny 
velvet  coat,  the  first  day  that  I  put  it  on, 
though  made  half  a  3'ear  ago.  And  being 
read}',  Sir  "VV.  Batten,  my  Lady,  and  his 
two  daughters  and  his  son  and  wife,  and 
Sir  AV.  Pen  and  his  son  and  I,  went  to  ]Mr. 
Young's,  the  flagmaker,  in  Corne-hill;  and 
there  we  had  a  good  room  to  ourselves,  with 
wine  and  good  cake,  and  saw  the  show  very 
well.  In  which  it  is  impossible  to  relate 
the  glory  of  this  day,  expressed  in  the 
clothes  of  them  that  rid,  and  their  horses 


14       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

and  liorses-clothes.  Among  others,  my  Lord 
Sandwich's  embroidery  and  diamonds  were 
not  ordinarj'  among  them.  The  Knights  of 
the  Bath  was  a  brave  sight  of  itself ;  and  their 
Esquires,  among  which  BIr.  Armiger  was  an 
Esquire  to  one  of  the  Knights.  Remarquable 
were  the  two  men  that  represent  the  two 
Dukes  of  Xormand}"  and  Aquitane.  The 
Bishops  come  next  after  Barons,  which  is 
the  higher  place ;  which  makes  me  think 
that  the  next  Parliament  they  will  be  called 
to  the  House  of  Lords.  M}'  Lord  Monk  rode 
bare  after  the  King,  and  led  in  his  hand  a 
spare  horse,  as  being  Master  of  the  Horse. 
The  King,  in  a  most  rich  embroidered  suit 
and  cloak,  looked  most  noble.  Wadlow  the 
vintner,  at  the  Devil,  in  Fleet-street,  did 
lead  a  fine  comimnj^  of  soldiers,  all  young 
comely  men,  in  white  doublets.  There 
followed  the  Vice-Chamberlain,  Sir  G. 
Carteret,  a  Comj^any  of  men  all  like  Turkes  ; 
but  I  know  not  yet  what  they  are  for.  The 
streets  all  gravelled,  and  the  houses  himg 
with  carpets  before  them,  made  brave  show, 
and  the  ladies  out  of  the  windows.  So 
glorious  was  the  show  with  gold  and  silver, 
that  we  were  not  able  to  look  at  it,  our  eyes 
at  last  being  so  much  overcome.  Both  the 
King  and  the  Duke  of  York  took  notice  of 
us,  as  they  saw  us  at  the  window.  In  the 
evening,  by  water  to  AVhite  Hall  to  my 
Lord's,  and  there   I   spoke  with   my  Lord. 


DRESS  15 

He  talked  with  me  about  his  suit,  which 
was  made  in  France,  and  cost  him  £200, 
and  very  rich  it  is  with  embroidery. 

April -22,  1661. 

T  X  my  black  silk  suit  (the  first  day  I  have 
-'•     jnit  it  on  this  year)  to  my  Lord  Ma3'or's 
by  coach,  with  a  great  deal  of  honourable 
comjDany,  and  great  entertainment. 

May  23,  1 66 1. 

T  AM  forced  to  go  to  "Worcester  House, 
-*•  where  severall  Lords  are  met  in  Council 
this  afternoon.  And  while  I  am  waiting 
there,  in  comes  the  King  in  a  jjlain  common 
riding- suit  and  velvet  cap,  in  which  he  seemed 
a  verv  ordinary  man  to  one  that  had  not 

known  him. 

August  19,  1661. 

'T^HIS  day  I  put  on  mj-  half  cloth  black 
-■-  stockings  and  my  new  coate  of  the 
fashion,  which  pleases  me  well,  and  with 
my  beaver  I  was  (after  office  was  done)  ready 
to  go  to  my  Lord  Mayor's  feast,  as  we  are 
all  invited ;  but  the  Sir  "Williams  were  both 
loth  to  go,  because  of  the  crowd,  and  so  none 
of  us  went.  This  Lord  Mayor,  it  seems, 
brings  up  again  the  custom  of  Lord  IMayors 
going  the  day  of  their  instalment  to  Paul's, 
and  walking  round  about  the  Crosse,  and 
offering  something  at  the  altar. 

October  29,  1661. 


l6       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

73  Y  and  by  comes  La  Belle  Pierce  to  see 

-'--'     my  wife,  and  to  bring  her  a  pair  of 

peruques  of  hair,  as  the  fashion  now  is  for 

ladies  to  Avear  ;  which  are  pretty,  and  are  of 

my  wife's   own  hair,  or   else   I  should  not 

endure  them. 

March  24,  1662. 


'\"\  riTH  my  wife,  by  coach,  to  the  New 
^  *  Exchange,  to  buj-  her  some  things ; 
where  we  saw  some  new-fashion  pettycoats 
of  sarcenett,  with  a  black  broad  lace  printed 
round  the  bottom  and  before,  very  handsome, 
and  my  wife  had  a  mind  to  one  of  them. 

April  15,  1662. 

IN  the  afternoon  to  "White  Hall ;  and  there 
walked  an  houre  or  two  in  the  Parke, 
where  I  saw  the  King  now  out  of  mourning, 
in  a  suit  laced  with  gold  and  silver,  which  it 
is  said  was  out  of  fashion.  Thence  to  the 
Wardrobe ;  and  there  consulted  with  the 
ladies  about  going  to  Hampton  Court  to- 
morrow. 

May  II,  1662. 

I  TRIED  on  my  riding  cloth  suit  with  close 
knees,  the  first  that  ever  I  had,  and  I 
think  they  will  be  very  convenient. 

Jii7ie  12,  1662. 


DRESS  17 

TDUT  on  my  first  new  lace-band;  and  so 
-*-       neat  it  is,  that  I  am  resolved  my  great 
expence  shall  be  lace- bands,  and  it  will  set 
off  any  thing  else  the  more. 

October  19,  1662. 


OUT  on  my  new  Scallop,  which  is  ver}- 
-*-  fine.  To  chiuch,  and  there  saw  the 
first  time  Mr.  Mills  in  a  surplice ;  but  it 
seemed  absurd  for  him  to  pull  it  over  his 
eares  in  the  reading-pew,  after  he  had  done, 
before  all  the  chiirch,  to  go  up  to  the  pulpitt, 
to  preach  without  it. 

October  26,  1662. 

pUT  on  a   black   cloth   suit,  with  white 
-^       lyniugs  under  all,  as  the  fashion  is  to 
wear,  to  appear  under  the  breeches. 

May  10,  1663. 


TT  EARING  that  the  King  and  Queene 
-*■  -^  are  rode  abroad  with  the  Ladies  of 
Honour  to  the  Parke,  and  seeing  a  great 
crowd  of  gallants  staying  here  to  see  their 
return,  I  also  staid  walking  up  and  down. 
By  and  \)y  the  King  and  Queene,  who  looked 
in  this  dress  (a  white  laced  waistcoate  and 
a  crimson  short  pettycoate,  and  her  hair 
dressed  a  la  ntijUyencr)  might}'  prettj- ;  and 

B 


l8   LEAVES  FROM  PEPYS   DIARY 

the  King  rode  hand  in  hand  with  her.     Here 

was  also  my  Lady  Castlemaine  rode  among 

the  rest  of  the  ladies ;  but  the  King  took, 

methought,  no  notice  of  her  ;  nor  when  she 

light,  did  any  bod}-  press  (as  she  seemed  to 

expect,  and  staid  for  it)  to  take  her  down, 

but  was  taken  down  by  her  own  gentlemen. 

She  looked  mighty  out  of  humour,  and  had 

a  yellow  plume  in  her  hat  (which  all  took 

notice   of),  and  yet  is  very  handsome,  but 

very  melancholy  :   nor  did  any  body  speak 

to  her,  or  she  so  much  as  smile  or  speak  to 

any  bod}^.     I  followed  them  up  into  White 

Hall,  and  into  the  Queene's  presence,  where 

all  the   ladies  walked,  talking  and  fiddling 

with  their  hats  and  feathers,  and  changing 

and  trying  one  another's  by  one  another's 

heads,  and  laughing.     But  it  was  the  finest 

sight  to  me,  considering  their  great  beautj-s, 

and  dress,  that  ever  I  did  see  in  all  my  life. 

But,  above  all,  Mrs.  Stewart  in  this  dresse, 

with  her  hat  cocked  and  a  red  plume,  with 

her    sweet    eye,    little    Roman    nose,    and 

excellent  taille,  is  now  the  greatest  beauty  I 

ever  saw,  I  think,  in  my  life ;  and,  if  ever 

woman  can,  do  exceed  my  Lady  Castlemaine, 

at  least  in  this  dress  :   nor  do  I  wonder  if 

the  King  changes,  Avhich  I  verily  believe  is 

the  reason  of    liis    coldness    to    my   Lady 

Castlemaine. 

/u/y  13,  1663. 


DRESS  19 

AFTER  dinner  I  put  on  iny  new  camclott 
suit ;  the  best  that  ever  I  wore  in  my 
life,  the  suit  costing  me  above  £24.  In  this 
I  went  with  Creed  to  Gohlsmiths'  Hall,  to 
the  burial  of  Sir  Thomas  Yiner  ;  which  Hall, 
and  Haberdashers'  also,  was  so  full  of  people, 
that  we  were  fain  for  ease  and  coolness  to  go 
forth  to  rater  Xoster  Row,  to  choose  a  silk 
to  make  me  a  plain  ordinary  suit. 

June  I,  1665. 

TO  Hampton  Court,  where  I  saw  the 
King  and  Queene  set  out  towards 
Salisbury,  and  after  them  the  Duke  and 
Duchesse,  whose  hands  I  did  kiss.  And  it 
was  the  first  time  I  did  ever,  or  did  see  any 
body  else,  kiss  her  hand,  and  it  was  a  most 
fine  white  and  fat  hand.  But  it  was  pretty 
to  see  the  young  prettv  ladies  dressed  like 
men,  in  velvet  coats,  caps  with  ribbands, 
and  with  laced  bands,  just  like  men.  Onl}- 
the  Duchesse  herself  it  did  not  become. 

July  27,  1665. 

UP ;  and  very  betimes  by  six  o'clock 
at  Deptford,  and  there  find  Sir  G. 
Carteret,  and  my  Lady  ready  to  go :  I  being 
in  my  new  coloured  silk  suit,  and  coat 
trimmed  with  gold  buttons  and  gold  broad 
lace  rouml  my  hands,  very  rich  and  fine. 

July  3T,  1665. 


I 


20       LEAVES     FROM     P  E  P  Y  S  '     DIARY 

TIP;  and  put  on  my  coloured  silk  suit 
^  very  fine,  and  m}^  new  periwigg, 
bought  a  good  while  since,  bvit  durst  not 
wear,  because  the  plague  was  in  "NYestmin- 
ster  when  I  bought  it;  and  it  is  a  wonder 
what  will  be  the  fashion  after  the  plague  is 
done,  as  to  periwiggs,  for  nobody  will  dare 
to  biiy  any  haire,  for  fear  of  the  infection, 
that  it  had  been  cut  off  the  heads  of  people 

dead  of  the  plague. 

September  3,  1665. 

THIS  morning,  hearing  that  the  Queene 
grows  worse  again,  I  sent  to  stop  the 
making  of  my  velvet  cloak,  till  I  see  whether 

she  lives  or  dies. 

October  22,  1663. 


TO  my  great  sorrow  find  myself  £43 
worse  than  I  was  the  last  month, 
which  was  then  £760  and  now  it  is  but  £717. 
But  it  hath  chiefly  arisen  from  my  layings- 
out  in  clothes  for  myself  and  wife ;  viz.  for 
her  about  £12  and  for  myself  £55,  or  there- 
abouts :  having-  made  myself  a  velvet  cloak, 
two  new  cloth  skirts,  black,  plain  both  ;  a 
new  shag  gown,  trimmed  with  gold  buttons 
and  twist,  with  a  new  hat,  and  silk  tops  for 
my  legs,  and  many  other  things,  being 
resolved,  henceforward  to  go  like  myself. 
And  also  two  perriwiggs,  one  whereof  costs 


DRESS  21 

ine  £3  and  the  other  40s.      I  have  worn 

neither  yet,  but  will  begin  next  week,  God 

willing. 

October  30,  1663. 


'a* 


I  HEARD  the  Duke  say  that  he  was  going 
to  wear  a  perriwigg ;  and  they  say  the 
King  also  will.  I  never  till  this  daj'  observed 
that  the  King  is  mighty  gray. 

November  2,  1663. 


TO  church,  where  I  found  that  my  coming 
in  a  perriwigg  did  not  prove  so  strange 
as  I  was  afraid  it  would,  for  I  thought  that 
all   the  church  would  presently  have   cast 

their  eyes  all  upon  me. 

November?),  1663. 


TO  the  Duke,  where,  when  we  come  into 
his  closet,  he  told  us  that  Mr.  Pepys 
was  so  altered  with  his  new  perriwigg  that 

he  did  not  know  him. 

November  9,  1663. 

npHIS  morning  I  put  on  my  best  black 
^  cloth  suit,  trimmed  with  scarlett  rib- 
bon, very  neat,  with  my  cloak  lined  with 
velvett,  and  a  new  beaver,  which  altogether 
is  ver}-  noble,  with  my  black  silk  knit  canons 

I  bought  a  month  ago. 

November  29,  1663. 


22       LEAVES    FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

I  DID  give  my  wife's  brother  10s.  and  a 
coat  that  I  had  by  me,  a  close-bodied, 
light-coloured  cloth  coat,  with  a  gold  edge- 
ing  in  each  seam,  that  was  the  lace  of  my 
wife's  best  pettycoat  that  she  had  when  I 
married  her.      He  is  going  into  Holland  to 

seek  his  fortmie. 

February  lo,  1663-4. 

TO  White  Hall,  to  the  Duke :  where,  he 
first  put  on  a  periwigg  to-day:  but 
methought  his  hair  cut  short  in  order  thereto 
did  look  very  prettily  of  itself,  before  he  put 

on  his  periwigg. 

February  15,  1663-4. 

THENCE  with  him  to  the  Park,  and 
there  met  the  Queene  coming  from 
Chapell,  with  her  Maids  of  Honour,  all  in 
silver-lace  gowns  again  ;  which  is  new  to 
me,  and  that  which  I  did  not  think  would 

have  been  brought  up  again. 

June  24,  1664. 

PUT  on  my  new  shaggy  purple  gown  with 
gold  buttons  and  loop  lace. 

November  11,  1664. 

WITH  Sir  J.  Minnes  to  St.  James's,  and 
there  did  our  business  with  the  Duke. 
Great  preparations  for  his  speedy  return  to 
sea.     I  saw  him  try  on  his  buff  coat  and  hat- 


DRESS  23 

piece  covered  with  black  velvet.  It  troubles 
me  more  to  think  of  his  venture,  than  of 
any  thing  else  in  the  whole  warr. 

March  6,  1664-5. 

THIS  day  my  wife  begun  to  wear  light- 
coloured  locks,  quite  white  almost, 
which,  though  it  makes  her  look  very  pretty, 
3'et  not  being  natural,  vexes  me,  that  I  will 

not  have  her  wear  them. 

March  13,  1664-5. 

TO   church,  it  being  "Whit-sunday ;   my 
wife  very  fine  in  a  new  yellow  bird's- 
eye  hood,  as  the  fashion  is  now. 

May  14,  1665. 

UP  ;  and  put  on  a  new  black  cloth  suit  to 
an  old  coat  that  I  make  to  be  in 
mourning  at  Court,  where  they  are  all,  for 
the  King  of  Spain.     I  to  the  Park. 

February  11,  1665-6. 

A  1 /'ALKIXG  in  the  galleries  at  White  Hall, 
*  *  I  find  the  Ladies  of  Honour  dressed 
in  their  riding  garbs,  with  coats  and  doublets 
with  deep  skirts,  just  for  all  the  world  like 
mine,  and  buttoned  their  douVjlets  up  the 
breast,  with  perriwigs  and  with  hats ;  so 
that,  only  for  a  long  petticoat  dragging 
under  their  men's  coats,  nobody  could  take 
them  for  women  in  an\-  point  whatever ; 
which  was  an  odde  sight,  and  a  sight  did  not 


24       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

please  me.     It  was  Mrs.  '^^"ells  and  another 

fine  lady  that  I  saw  thus. 

June  II,  1666. 

MY  wife  tells  me  she  hath  bought  a  gown 
of  15s.  i3er  j'ard ;  the  same,  before 
her   face,    my  Lady  Castlemaine  this  day 

bought  also. 

September  26,  1666. 


-'a^ 


THE  King  hath  yesterday  in  Council 
declared  his  resolution  of  setting  a 
fashion  for  clothes,  which  he  will  never 
alter.  It  will  be  a  vest,  I  know  not  well 
how;  but  it  is  to  teach  the  nobility  thrift, 

and  will  do  good. 

October  8,  1666. 

THIS  day  the  King  begins  to  i)ut  on  his 
vest,  and  I  did  see  several  ^Dersons  oi 
the  House  of  Lords  and  Commons  too,  great 
courtiers,  who  are  in  it ;  being  a  long  cas- 
socke  close  to  the  body,  of  black  cloth,  and 
pinked  with  white  silk  under  it,  and  a  coat 
over  it,  and  the  legs  ruffled  with  black 
riband  like  a  pigeon's  leg:  and  upon  the 
whole  I  wish  the  King  may  keep  it,  for  it  is 
a  very  fine  and  handsome  garment.  Lady 
Carteret  tells  me  ladies  are  to  go  into  a  new 
fashion  shortly,  and  that  is,  to  wear  short 
coats,  above  their  ancles ;  which  she  and  I 
do  not  like ;  but  conclude  this  long  trayne 

to  be  mighty  graceful. 

October  15,  1666. 


DRESS  25 

'T^O  Mrs.  Pierce's,  where  she  was  makiDg 

■^       herself  might}'  fine  to  go  to  a  great 

ball  to-night  at  Court,  being  the  Queene's 

birth-day  ;   so  the  ladies  for  this  one   da}- 

wear  laces,  but  are  to  put  them  off  again 

to-morrow. 

October  25,  1666, 

nPHE   King  and  Lords  themselves  wear 

-*-       but  a  cloak  of  Colchester  bayze,  and 

the  ladies  mantles  in  cold  Aveather  of  white 

flannell. 

Fehrtiary  24,  1666-7. 

'T^  O  a  periwigg-maker's  and  there  bought 
-*       two  })eriwiggs,   miglit}*   fine   indeed ; 
too  fine,   I  thought,   for   me ;   but  he  per- 
suaded me,  and  I  did  buy  them  for  £4  10s. 

the  two. 

March  29,  1667. 

"]\ /T  ET  my  Lad}'  Newcastle  going  with  her 
^^^  coaches  and  footmen  all  in  velvet: 
herself  (whom  I  never  saw  before),  as  I  have 
heard  her  often  described  (for  all  the  town- 
talk  is  now-a-days  of  her  extravagancies), 
with  her  velvet-caj),  her  hair  about  her  ears ; 
many  black  patches,  because  of  jjimples 
about  her  mouth ;  uaked-irecked,  without 
any  thing  about  it,  and  a  black  just-au-corps. 
She  seemed  to  mc  a  very  comely  woman  : 
but  I  hope  to  see  more  of  her  on  IMay-day. 

April  26,  1667. 


26       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 


u 


P,  and  put  on  m}^  new  tunique  of  vel- 
vett ;  which  is  very  plain,  but  good. 

October  20,  1667. 


TO  "White  Hall,  where  I  saw  the  Duchesse 
of  York  (in  a  fine  dress  of  second 
mourning  for  her  mother,  being  black  edged 
with  ermin)  go  to  make  her  first  visit  to  the 
Queene  since  the  Duke  of  York's  being  sick  ; 
and  by  and  by  she  being  returned,  the 
Queene  came  and  visited  her. 

December  8,  1667. 

THIS  day  I  got  a  little  rent  in  my  new 
fine  camlett  cloak  with  the  latch  of 
Sir  G.  Carteret's  door ;  but  it  is  darned  up 
at  my  tailor's,  that  it  will  be  no  great 
blemish  to  it ;  but  it  troubled  me. 

December  30,  1667. 

MY  wife  extraordinary  fine  to-day  in  her 
flower  tabby  suit,  bought  a  year  and 
more  ago,  before  my  mother's  death  put  her 
into  mourning,  and  so  not  worn  till  this  day  : 
and  every  body  in  love  with  it ;  and  indeed 
she  is  very  fine  and  handsome  in  it. 

Ma7-ch  26,  1668. 

THIS  day  in  the  afternoon,  stepping  with 
the  Duke  of  York  into  St.  James's 
Park,  it  rained  ;  and  I  was  forced  to  lend 


DRESS  27 

the  Duke  of  York  my  cloak,  which  he  wore 
through  the  Park.  April  6, 1668. 

UP,  and  put  on  my  new  stuff -suit,  with  a 
shoulder-belt  according  to  the  new 
fashion,  and  the  hands  of  my  vest  and 
tuuique  laced  with  silk-lace  of  the  colour  of 
my  suit :  and  so  very  handsome  to  church. 

May  17,  1668. 

TIP,  and  put  on  a  new  summer  black 
^  bombazin  suit ;  and  being  come  now 
to  an  agreement  with  my  barber  to  keep  my 
perriwig  in  good  order  at  20s.  a-year,  I  am 
like  to  go  very  spruce,  more  than  I  used 
to  do.  May  30,  1668. 

'T^O  St.  James's:  and  by  and  by  comes 
-*-  Monsieur  Colbert  the  French  Ambas- 
sador, to  make  his  first  visit  to  the  Duke  of 
York,  and  then  to  the  Duchesse.  And  I 
saw  it :  a  silly  piece  of  ceremony,  he  saying 
onlj*  a  few  formal  words.  A  comel}'  man, 
and  in  a  black  suit  and  cloak  of  silk  ;  which 
is  a  strange  fashion  now  it  hath  been  so  long 
left  off.  August  21,  1668. 


"]\ /r  Y  wife  this  day  put  on  first  her  French 
■^^ ^  gown,  called  a  Sac,  which  becomes 
her  very  well.  March  2,  1668-9. 


28       LEAVES     FROM     PEPVs'     DIARY 

AND  SO  to  other  places,  amoBg  others,  to 
my  tailor's;  and  then  to  the  belt- 
maker's,  where  my  belt  cost  me  5.5s.  of 
the  colour  of  my  new  suit.  ...  So  to  the 
cutler's,  and  there  did  give  Tom,  who  was 
with  me  all  day,  a  sword  cost  me  12s.  and 
a  belt  of  my  owne  ;  and  sent  my  own  silver- 
hilt  sword  agilding  against  to-morrow. 

April  30,  1669. 

UP  betimes.  My  wife  extraordinary'  fine 
with  her  flowered  tabby  gown  that 
she  made  two  3'ears  ago,  noAv  laced  exceeding- 
pretty  ;  and  indeed  was  fine  all  over.  And 
might}'  earnest  to  go,  though  the  day  was 
very  lowering  ;  and  she  would  have  me  put 
on  my  fine  suit,  which  I  did.  And  so  anon 
we  went  alone  through  the  town  witli  our 
new  liveries  of  serge,  and  the  horses'  manes 
and  tails  tied  with  red  ribbons,  and  the 
standards  thus  gilt  with  varnish,  and  all 
clean,  and  green  reines,  that  people  did 
mightily  look  upon  us ;  and  the  truth  is,  I 
did  not  see  any  coach  more  prett_y,  though 
more  gay,  than  ours  all  the  day. 

May  I,  1669. 


Ill 

SPORTS  AND  PASTIMES 

Bowling.  Boxing.  Bull-baiting.  Cock- 
fighting.  Dancing.  Duelling.  Fencing. 
Fishing  in  Winter.  Foot-racing.  Handi- 
cap. Hunting.  Nine-pins.  Pall-mall.  Skat- 
ing.    Tennis. 


BOWLS 


at  bowles. 


P  early,  and  bated  at  Peters- 
field,  in  the  room  which  the 
King  lay  in  lately  at  his 
being  here.  Here  very  merry, 
and    played  with    our   wives 

May  I,  i66i. 


1"*HIS  afternoon  I  went  to  "Westminster. 
.  .  .  Thence    to  .  .  .  the   Bowling-ally 
(where  lords  and  ladies  are  now  at  bowles),  in 

brave  condition. 

Jtdy  26,  1662. 
2i) 


30        LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 
BOXING 

A  BROAD,  and  stopped  at  Bear-garden 
-^~^     stairs,    there  to  see  a  i^rize  fought. 


But  the  house  so  full  there  was  no  getting 
in  there,  so  forced  to  go  through  an  alehouse 
into  the  pit,  where  the  bears  are  baited  ;  and 
upon  a  stool  did  see  them  fight,  which  they 
did  very  furiously,  a  butcher  and  a  water- 
man.    The  former  had  the  better  all  along 
till  by  and  by  the  latter  dropped  his  sAvord 
out  of  his  hand,  and  the  butcher,  whether 
not  seeing  his  sword  dropped  I  know  not, 
but  did  give  him  a  cut  over  the  wrist,  so  as 
he  was  disabled  to  fight  any  longer.     But, 
Lord  !   to  see  how  in   a   minute  the  whole 
stage  was  full  of  watermen  to  revenge  the  foul 
play,  and  the  butchers  to  defend  their  fellow, 
though  most  blamed  him;  and  there  they 
all  fell  to  it,  to  knocking  down  and  cutting 
many  on  each  side.     It  was  pleasant  to  see, 
but  that  I  stood  in  the  pit,  and  feared  that 
in  the  tumult  I  might  get  some  hurt.     At 
last  the  battle  broke  up,  and  so  I  away. 

May  27,  1667. 

'T^O  the  Bear-garden,  where  now  the  yard 
-*•  was  full  of  people,  and  those  most  of 
them  seamen,  striving  by  force  to  get  in.  I 
got  into  the  common  jMt ;  and  there,  Avith 
my  cloak  about  my  face,  I  stood  and  saw  the 
prize  fought,  till  one  of  them,  a  shoemaker. 


SPORTS     AXD     PASTIMES  3I 

was  SO  cut  in  both  his  wrists  that  he  could 
not  fight  an}'  longer,  and  then  thej-  broke  off  : 
his  enemy  was  a  butcher.  The  sport  very 
good,  and  various  humours  to  be  seen  among 
the  rabble  that  is  there. 

Septetnber  9,  1667. 

T)  Y  water  to  the  Bear-garden,  and  there 
-*-'  happened  to  sit  by  Sir  Fretcheville 
Mollis,  who  is  still  full  of  his  vain-glorious 
and  prophane  talk.  Here  we  saw  a  prize 
fought  between  a  soldier  and  a  country- 
fellow,  one  "Warrel,  who  promised  the  least 
in  his  looks,  and  performed  the  most  of 
valour  in  his  boldness  and  evenness  of  mind, 
and  smiles  in  all  he  did,  that  ever  I  saw; 
and  we  were  all  both  deceived  and  infinitely 
taken  with  him.  He  did  soundly  beat  the 
soldier,  and  cut  him  over  the  head.  Thence 
back  to  White  Hall,  mightily  pleased  all 
of  us  with  this  sight,  and  particularly  this 
fellow,  as  a  most  extraordinary  man  for  his 
temper  and  evenness  in  fighting. 

April  12,  T669. 

BULL-BAITIXG 

A  FTER  dinner  with  my  wife  and  Mercer 
■^~^  to  the  Beare-garden ;  where  I  have 
not  been,  I  think,  of  many  years,  and  saw 
some  good  sport  of  the  bull's  tossing  of  the 
dogs :  one  into  the  very  boxes.  But  it  is  a 
very  rude  and  nasty  pleasure.      AVe  had  a 


32        LEAVES     F  R  O  31     P  E  P  Y  S  '     DIARY 

great  many  hectors  in  the  same  box  with  ns 
(and  one  very  fine  went  into  the  pit,  and 
played  his  dog  for  a  wager,  which  was  a 
strange  sport  for  a  gentleman),  where  the}' 
drank  wine,  and  drank  Mercer's  health  first ; 
which  I  pledged  with  my  hat  off.  "We 
supped  at  home,  and  very  merry.  And  then 
about  nine  o'clock  to  Mrs.  Mercer's  gate, 
where  the  fire  and  boys  expected  us,  and  her 
son  had  provided  abundance  of  serpents  and 
rockets  ;  and  there  mighty  merry  (my  Lady 
Pen  and  Pegg  going  thither  with  us,  and 
Nan  Wright),  till  about  twelve  at  night, 
flinging  our  fireworks,  and  burning  one 
another  and  the  people  over  the  way.  And 
at  last  our  businesses  being  most  spent,  we 
into  Mrs.  Mercer's,  and  there  mighty  merry. 
Thanksgiving  Day,  Aug.  14,  1666. 

CARDS 

MY  Lord,  the  Captain,  and  I  supped  in 
mj'  Lord's  chamber,  where  I  did 
perceive  that  he  did  begin  to  show  me  much 
more  respect  than  ever  he  did  yet.  After 
supper,  my  Lord  sent  for  me,  intending  to 
have  me  play  at  cards  with  him,  but  I  not 
knowing  cribbage,  Ave  fell  into  discourse  of 
many  things,  and  the  ship  rolled  so  much 
that  I  was  not  able  to  stand,  and  so  he  bid 

me  go  to  bed. 

May  15,  1660. 


DRESS  17 

TDUT  on  my  first  uew  lace-band;  and  so 
^       neat  it  is,  that  I  am  resolved  my  great 
expence  shall  be  lace- bands,  and  it  will  set 
off  any  thing  else  the  more. 

October  19,  1662. 


P 


>UT  on  my  new  Scallop,  which  is  very 
fine.  To  church,  and  there  saw  the 
first  time  Mr.  Mills  in  a  suri^lice ;  but  it 
seemed  absurd  for  him  to  pull  it  over  his 
eares  in  the  reading-pew,  after  he  had  done, 
before  all  the  church,  to  go  up  to  the  pulpitt, 
to  preach  without  it. 

October  26,  1662. 

pUT  on  a  black  cloth   suit,  with  white 
•^       lynings  under  all,  as  the  fashion  is  to 
wear,  to  appear  under  the  breeches. 

May  10,  1663. 


IT  EARING  that  the  King  and  Queene 
-*■  ^  are  rode  abroad  with  the  Ladies  of 
Honour  to  the  Parke,  and  seeing  a  great 
crowd  of  gallants  staying  here  to  see  their 
return,  I  also  staid  walking  up  and  down. 
By  and  hy  the  King  and  Quoenc,  who  looked 
in  this  dress  (a  white  laced  waistcoate  and 
a  crimson  short  pettycoate,  and  her  hair 
dressed  a  la  ntylvjencc)  mighty  pretty  ;  and 

B 


l8       LEAVES    FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

the  King  rode  hand  in  hand  with  her.     Here 
was  also  my  Lady  Castlemaine  rode  among 
the  rest  of  the  ladies ;  but  the  King  took, 
methought,  no  notice  of  her  ;  nor  when  she 
light,  did  any  body  press  (as  she  seemed  to 
expect,  and  staid  for  it)  to  take  her  down, 
but  was  taken  down  by  her  own  gentlemen. 
She  looked  mighty  out  of  humour,  and  had 
a  yellow  plume  in  her  hat  (which  all  took 
notice   of),  and  j-et  is  very  handsome,  but 
very  melancholy  :   nor  did  any  body  speak 
to  her,  or  she  so  much  as  smile  or  speak  to 
any  body.     I  followed  them  up  into  White 
Hall,  and  into  the  Queene's  presence,  where 
all  the   ladies  walked,  talking  and  fiddling 
with  their  hats  and  feathers,  and  changing 
and  trying  one  another's  by  one  another's 
heads,  and  laughing.     But  it  was  the  finest 
sight  to  me,  considering  their  great  beautys, 
and  dress,  that  ever  I  did  see  in  all  my  life. 
But,  above  all,  Mrs.  Stewart  in  this  dresse, 
with  her  hat  cocked  and  a  red  j^lume,  with 
her    sweet    eye,    little    Roman    nose,    and 
excellent  taille,  is  now  the  greatest  beauty  I 
ever  saw,  I  think,  in  my  life ;  and,  if  ever 
woman  can,  do  exceed  my  Lady  Castlemaine, 
at  least  in  this  dress  :   nor  do  I  wonder  if 
the  King  changes,  Avhich  I  verily  believe  is 
the  reason  of    his    coldness    to    my   Lady 
Castlemaine. 

/7t/^  13,  1663. 


DRESS  19 

A  FTER  dinner  I  put  ou  iny  uew  camelott 
-^~^  suit ;  the  best  that  evez- 1  wore  in  my 
life,  the  suit  costing  me  above  £24.  In  this 
I  went  with  Creed  to  Goklsraiths'  Hall,  to 
the  burial  of  Sir  Thomas  Viner  ;  which  Hall, 
and  Haberdashei's'  also,  was  so  full  of  people, 
that  we  were  fain  for  ease  and  coolness  to  go 
forth  to  Pater  Noster  Row,  to  choose  a  silk 
to  make  me  a  plain  ordinary  suit. 

June  I,  1665. 

'T^O  Hampton  Court,  where  I  saw  the 
-^  King  and  Queene  set  out  towards 
Salisbur\^,  and  after  them  the  Duke  and 
Duchesse,  whose  hands  I  did  kiss.  And  it 
was  the  first  time  I  did  ever,  or  did  see  any 
body  else,  kiss  her  hand,  and  it  was  a  most 
fine  white  and  fat  hand.  But  it  was  pretty 
to  see  the  young  prett\-  ladies  dressed  like 
men,  in  velvet  coats,  caps  with  ribbands, 
and  with  laced  bands,  just  like  men.  Only 
the  Duchesse  herself  it  did  not  become. 

July  27,  1665. 

UP ;  and  ver}'  betimes  by  six  o'clock 
at  Deptford,  and  there  find  Sir  G. 
Carteret,  and  my  Lady  read}-  to  go :  I  being 
in  my  new  coloured  silk  suit,  and  coat 
trimmed  with  gold  buttons  and  gold  broad 
lace  round  my  hands,  very  rich  and  fine. 

July  31,  1665. 


20      LEASES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

TIP;  and  put  on  mj-  coloured  silk  suit 
^  very  fine,  and  my  new  periwigg, 
bought  a  good  while  since,  but  durst  not 
Avear,  because  the  plague  was  in  Westmin- 
ster when  I  bought  it ;  and  it  is  a  wonder 
Avhat  will  be  the  fashion  after  the  plague  is 
done,  as  to  periwiggs,  for  nobody  will  dare 
to  buy  any  haire,  for  fear  of  the  infection, 
that  it  had  been  cut  off  the  heads  of  people 

dead  of  the  plague. 

Sepiembcr  3,  1665. 

THIS  morning,  hearing  that  the  Queene 
grows  worse  again,  I  sent  to  stop  the 
making  of  my  velvet  cloak,  till  I  see  whether 

she  lives  or  dies. 

October  22,  1663. 


TO    my  great  sorrow  find  myself    £43 
worse   than   I   was   the    last   month, 
which  was  then  £760  and  now  it  is  but  £717. 
But  it  hath  chiefly  arisen  from  my  layings- 
out  in  clothes  for  myself  and  wife ;  viz.  for 
her  about  £12  and  for  myself  £55,  or  there- 
abouts :  having  made  myself  a  velvet  cloak, 
two  new  cloth  skirts,  black,  plain  both  ;   a 
new  shag  gown,  trimmed  with  gold  buttons 
and  twist,  with  a  new  hat,  and  silk  tops  for 
my    legs,   and    many    other    tilings,    being 
resolved,  henceforward  to  go  like  myself. 
And  also  two  perriwiggs,  one  whereof  costs 


DRESS  21 


me   £3  and   the  other  40s.      I  have  worn 

neither  yet,  but  will  begin  next  week,  God 

willinjr. 

October  30,  1663. 


*o* 


I  HEARD  the  Duke  say  that  he  was  going 
to  wear  a  perriwigg ;  and  they  say  the 
King  also  will,  I  never  till  this  day  observed 
that  the  King  is  mighty  gray. 

November  2,  1663. 

'  I  "O  church,  where  I  found  that  my  coming 

-*-       in  a  jjerriwigg  did  not  prove  so  strange 

as  I  was  afraid  it  would,  for  I  thought  that 

all   the   church  would  presently  have   cast 

their  eyes  all  upon  me. 

November  8,  1663. 


TO  the  Duke,  where,  when  we  come  into 
his  closet,  he  told  us  that  ]\Ir.  Pepys 
was  so  altered  with  his  new  perriwigg  that 

he  did  not  know  him. 

Noz'einber  9,  1663. 

'  I  "'HIS  morning  I  put  on  my  best  black 
-'-  cloth  suit,  trimmed  with  scarlett  rib- 
bon, very  neat,  with  my  cloak  lined  with 
velvett,  and  a  new  beaver,  which  altogether 
is  very  noble,  with  my  black  silk  knit  canons 

I  bought  a  month  ago. 

Xoveviber  29,  1663. 


22       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

I  DID  give  my  wife's  brother  10s.  and  a 
coat  that  I  had  by  me,  a  close-bodied, 
light-coloured  cloth  coat,  with  a  gold  edge- 
ing  in  each  seam,  that  was  the  lace  of  my 
wife's  best  pettycoat  that  she  had  when  I 
married  her.      He  is  going  into  Holland  to 

seek  his  fortune. 

February  lo,  1663-4. 

TO  AYhite  Hall,  to  the  Duke :  where  he 
first  put  on  a  periwigg  to-day :  but 
methought  his  hair  cut  short  in  order  thereto 
did  look  very  prettily  of  itself,  before  he  put 

on  his  periAvigg. 

February  15,  1663-4. 

THENCE  with  him  to  the  Park,  and 
there  met  the  Queene  coming  from 
Chapell,  with  her  Maids  of  Honour,  all  in 
silver-lace  gowns  again  ;  which  is  new  to 
me,  and  that  which  I  did  not  think  woidd 

have  been  brought  up  again. 

June  24,  1664. 

PUT  on  my  new  shaggy  purple  gown  with 
gold  buttons  and  loop  lace. 

November  11,  1664. 

WITH  Sir  J.  Minnes  to  St.  James's,  and 
there  did  our  business  with  the  Duke. 
Great  preparations  for  his  speedy  return  to 
sea.     I  saw  him  try  on  his  buff  coat  and  hat- 


DRESS  23 

piece  covered  with  black  velvet.  It  troubles 
me  more  to  think  of  his  venture,  than  of 
any  thing  else  in  the  whole  warr. 

March  6,  1664-5. 

'  I  ^HIS  day  my  wife  begun  to  wear  light- 

-'-       coloured    locks,    quite  white  almost, 

which,  though  it  makes  her  look  very  pretty, 

yet  not  being  natural,  vexes  me,  that  I  will 

not  have  her  wear  them. 

March  13,  1664-5. 

nn  0   church,  it  being  "Whit-sunday ;  my 
-'-       wife  very  fine  in  a  new  yellow  bird's- 
eye  hood,  as  the  fashion  is  now. 

May  14,  1665. 

UP  ;  and  put  on  a  new  black  cloth  suit  to 
an  old  coat  that  I  make  to  be  in 
mourning  at  Court,  where  they  are  all,  for 
the  King  of  Spain.     I  to  the  Park. 

Febriiary  11,  1665-6. 

Vy  ALKING  in  the  galleries  at  White  Hall, 
*  •  I  find  the  Ladies  of  Honour  dressed 
in  their  riding  garbs,  with  coats  and  doublets 
with  deep  skirts,  just  for  all  the  world  like 
mine,  and  buttoned  their  doublets  up  the 
breast,  with  perriwigs  and  with  hats ;  so 
that,  only  for  a  long  petticoat  dragging 
under  their  men's  coats,  nobody  could  take 
them  for  women  in  any  jjoint  whatever ; 
which  was  an  odde  sight,  and  a  sight  did  not 


24       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

please  me.     It  was  Mrs.  Wells  and  another 

fine  lady  that  I  saw  thus. 

Jjijie  II,  1666. 


M 


Y  wife  tells  me  she  hath  bought  a  gown 
of  15s.  per  yard ;  the  same,   before 
her   face,    my  Lady  Castlemaine  this  day 

bought  also. 

September  26,  1666. 

THE  King  hath  yesterday  in  Comicil 
declared  his  resolution  of  setting  a 
fashion  for  clothes,  which  he  will  never 
alter.  It  will  be  a  vest,  I  know  not  well 
how ;  but  it  is  to  teach  the  nobility  thrift, 

and  will  do  good. 

October  8,  1666. 

nPHIS  day  the  King  begins  to  jiut  on  his 

•*•       vest,  and  T  did  see  several  persons  of 

the  House  of  Lords  and  Commons  too,  great 

courtiers,  who  are  in  it ;   being  a  long  cas- 

socke  close  to  the  body,  of  black  cloth,  and 

pinked  with  white  silk  under  it,  and  a  coat 

over    it,    and  the    legs  ruffled  with    black 

riband  like  a  pigeon's  leg :   and  ujion  the 

whole  I  wish  the  King  maj'  keep  it,  for  it  is 

a  very  fine  and  handsome  garment.     Lady 

Carteret  tells  me  ladies  are  to  go  into  a  new 

fashion  shortly,  and  that  is,  to  wear  short 

coats,  above  their  ancles ;  which  she  and  I 

do  not  like ;  b\it  conclude  this  long  trayne 

to  be  mighty  graceful. 

October  15,  1666. 


DRESS  25 

'T^O  Mrs.  Pierce's,  where  she  was  making 
-■■  herself  miglit}'  fine  to  go  to  a  great 
ball  to-night  at  Court,  being  the  Queene's 
birth-dav  ;  so  the  ladies  for  this  one  day 
wear  laces,  but  are  to  put  them  off  again 
to-morrow. 

October  25,  1666. 

'T^HE  King  and  Lords  themselves  wear 
-*-       but  a  cloak  of  Colchester  ba\-ze,  and 
the  ladies  mantles  in  cold  weather  of  white 
flannell. 

February  24,  1666-7. 

T^O  a  periwigg-maker's  and  there  bought 
-*  tAvo  periwiggs,  mighty  fine  indeed; 
too  fine,  I  thought,  for  me;  but  he  per- 
suaded me,  and  I  did  buy  them  for  £4  10s. 
the  two. 

March  29,  1667. 

A /T  ET  my  Lady  Newcastle  going  with  her 
-'-'-•-  coaches  and  footmen  all  in  velvet: 
herself  (whom  I  never  saw  before),  as  I  have 
heard  her  often  described  (for  all  the  town- 
talk  is  now-a-daAs  of  her  extravagancies), 
with  her  velvet-cap,  her  hair  about  her  ears ; 
many  black  ]jatches,  because  of  pimples 
about  her  mouth ;  naked-neckod,  without 
any  thing  about  it,  and  a  black  ju.st-au-corps. 
She  seemed  to  me  a  very  comely  woman : 
but  I  hope  to  see  more  of  her  on  May-da}-. 

April  26,  1667. 


26       LEAVES     FEOM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

UP,  and  put  on  iri}^  new  tunique  of  vel- 
vett ;  which  is  very  plain,  but  good. 

October  20,  1667. 


TO  White  Hall,  where  I  saw  the  Duchesse 
of  York  (in  a  fine  dress  of  second 
mourning  for  her  mother,  being  black  edged 
with  ermin)  go  to  make  her  first  visit  to  the 
Queene  since  the  Duke  of  York's  being  sick  ; 
and  by  and  by  she  being  returned,  the 
Queene  came  and  visited  her. 

Decetnber  8,  1667. 

THIS  day  I  got  a  little  rent  in  my  new 
fine  camlett  cloak  with  the  latch  of 
Sir  G.  Carteret's  door ;  but  it  is  darned  up 
at  my  tailor's,  that  it  will  be  no  great 
blemish  to  it ;  but  it  troubled  me. 

December  30,  1667. 

MY  wife  extraordinar}'  fine  to-day  in  her 
flower  tabby  suit,  bought  a  year  and 
more  ago,  before  my  mother's  death  put  her 
into  mourning,  and  so  not  worn  till  this  day  : 
and  every  body  in  love  with  it ;  and  indeed 
she  is  ver}'  fine  and  handsome  in  it. 

March  26,  1668. 

THIS  day  in  the  afternoon,  stepping  with 
the  Duke  of  York  into  St.   James's 
Park,  it  rained  ;   and  I  was  forced  to  lend 


DRESS  27 

the  Duke  of  York  my  cloak,  which  he  wore 
through  the  Park.  April  6,  1668. 

TIP,  and  put  on  mj  new  stuff-suit,  with  a 

^      shoulder-belt  according    to  the  new 

fashion,    and  the    hands  of    my  vest    and 

tunique  laced  with  silk-lace  of  the  colour  of 

my  suit :  and  so  very  handsome  to  church. 

May  17,  1668. 

T  T  P,  and  put  on  a  new  summer  black 

^      bombazin  suit ;  and  being  come  now 

to  an  agreement  with  vay  barber  to  keep  my 

perriwig  in  good  order  at  20s.  a-year,  I  am 

like  to  go  very  spruce,   more  than  I  used 

to  do.  May  30,  1668. 

''JP  O  St.  James's  :  and  by  and  by  comes 
-*-  Monsieur  Colbert  the  French  Ambas- 
sador, to  make  his  first  visit  to  the  Duke  of 
York,  and  then  to  the  Duchesse.  And  I 
saw  it :  a  sill}-  piece  of  ceremony,  he  saving 
only  a  few  formal  words.  A  comely  man, 
and  in  a  black  suit  and  cloak  of  silk ;  which 
is  a  strange  fashion  now  it  hath  been  so  long 
left  off.  Augtisi  21,  1668. 

"]\ /r  Y  wife  this  day  put  on  first  her  French 
-'-'-*-  gown,  called  a  Sac,  which  becomes 
her  very  well.  iMarch  2,  1668-9. 


28        LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

A  ND  so  to  other  places,  among  others,  to 
-^^~^  my  tailor's ;  and  then  to  the  belt- 
maker's,  where  my  belt  cost  me  55s.  of 
the  colour  of  my  new  suit.  ...  So  to  the 
cutler's,  and  there  did  give  Tom,  who  was 
with  me  all  day,  a  sword  cost  me  l2s.  and 
a  belt  of  m}^  owne  ;  and  sent  my  own  silver- 
hilt  sword  agilding  against  to-morrow. 

April  30,  1669. 

TIP  betimes.  My  wife  extraordinary  fine 
^^  with  her  flowered  tabby  gown  that 
she  made  two  years  ago,  now  laced  exceeding 
prettj" ;  and  indeed  was  fine  all  over.  And 
mighty  earnest  to  go,  though  the  day  was 
very  lowering ;  and  she  would  have  me  put 
on  my  fine  suit,  which  I  did.  And  so  anon 
we  went  alone  through  the  town  with  our 
new  liveries  of  serge,  and  the  horses'  manes 
and  tails  tied  with  red  ribbons,  and  the 
standards  thus  gilt  with  varnish,  and  all 
clean,  and  green  reines,  that  people  did 
mightily  look  upon  us ;  and  the  truth  is,  I 
did  not  see  any  coach  more  pretty,  though 
more  gaj-,  than  ours  all  the  da}'. 

May  I,  1669. 


Ill 

SPORTS  AND  PASTIMES 

Bowling.  Boxing.  Bull-baiting.  Cock- 
fighting.  Dancing.  Duelling.  Fencing. 
Fishing  in  Winter.  Foot-racing.  Handi- 
cap. Hunting.  Xine-pins.  Pall-mall.  Skat- 
ing.    Tennis. 


BOWLS 


at  bowles. 


P  early,  and  bated  at  Peters- 
field,  in  the  room  which  the 
King  lay  in  lateh'  at  his 
being  here.  Here  ver}-  merry, 
and    played   with    our   wives 

J/ay  I,  1661. 


ni^HIS  afternoon  I  went  to  "Westminster. 

-*•       ...  Thence    to  .  .  .  the   Bowling-all}- 

(where  lords  and  ladies  are  now  at  bowles),  in 

brave  condition. 

////y  26,  1662. 
21) 


3°       LEAVES     FROBI     PEPYs'     DIARY 
BOXING 

A  BROAD,  and  stojiped  at  Bear-garden 
-^~*-    stairs,    there  to   see  a  prize  fought. 
But  the  house  so  full  there  was  no  getting 
in  there,  so  forced  to  go  through  an  alehouse 
into  the  pit,  where  the  bears  are  baited ;  and 
upon  a  stool  did  see  them  fight,  which  they 
did  very  furiously,  a  butcher  and  a  water- 
man.    The  former  had  the  better  all  along 
till  by  and  by  the  latter  droi3ped  his  sword 
out  of  his  hand,  and  the  butcher,  whether 
not  seeing  his  sword  dropped  I  know  not, 
but  did  give  him  a  cut  over  the  wrist,  so  as 
he  was  disabled  to  fight  any  longer.     But, 
Lord  !   to  see  how  in  a  minute  the  whole 
stage  was  full  of  watermen  to  revenge  the  foul 
play,  and  the  butchers  to  defend  their  fellow, 
though  most  blamed  him;   and  there  they 
all  fell  to  it,  to  knocking  down  and  cutting 
many  on  each  side.     It  was  pleasant  to  see, 
but  that  I  stood  in  the  pit,  and  feared  that 
in  the  tumult  I  might  get  some  hurt.     At 
last  the  battle  broke  up,  and  so  I  away. 

3[ay  27,  1667. 

'T^O  the  Bear-garden,  where  now  the  yard 
-'-  was  full  of  people,  and  those  most  of 
them  seamen,  striving  by  force  to  get  in,  I 
got  into  the  common  pit ;  and  there,  with 
my  cloak  about  my  face,  I  stood  and  saw  the 
prize  fought,  till  one  of  them,  a  shoemaker. 


SPORTS     AND     PASTIMES  31 

•was  SO  cut  in  both  his  wrists  that  he  could 
not  fight  any  longer,  and  then  they  broke  off  : 
his  enemy  was  a  butcher.  The  sport  very 
good,  and  various  humours  to  be  seen  among 
the  rabble  that  is  there. 

SepteiJtber  9,  1667. 

'"D  Y  water  to  the  Bear-garden,  and  there 
^  happened  to  sit  by  Sir  Fretcheville 
Hollis,  who  is  still  full  of  his  vain-glorious 
and  prophane  talk.  Here  we  saw  a  prize 
fought  between  a  soldier  and  a  country- 
fellow,  one  Warrel,  who  promised  the  least 
in  his  looks,  and  performed  the  most  of 
valour  in  his  boldness  and  evenness  of  mind, 
and  smiles  in  all  he  did,  that  ever  I  saw ; 
and  we  were  all  both  deceived  and  infinitely 
taken  with  him.  He  did  soundly  beat  the 
soldier,  and  cut  him  over  the  head.  Thence 
back  to  'White  Hall,  mightily  pleased  all 
of  us  with  this  sight,  and  particularly  this 
fellow,  as  a  most  extraordinary  man  for  his 
temper  and  evenness  in  fighting. 

April  12,  1669. 

BULL-BAITING 

A  FTER  dinner  with  my  wife  and  ^Mercer 
-^~~^  to  the  Beare-garden ;  where  I  have 
not  been,  I  think,  of  many  years,  and  saw 
some  good  sport  of  the  bull's  tossing  of  the 
dogs  :  one  into  the  very  boxes.  But  it  is  a 
very  rude  and  nasty  ])leasure.      "\^'e  had  a 


32        LEAVES     FROM     P  E  P  Y  S  '     DIARY 

great  many  hectors  in  the  same  box  with  iis 
(and  one  very  fine  went  into  the  jjit,  and 
played  his  dog  for  a  wager,  which  was  a 
strange  sjjort  for  a  gentleman),  where  they 
drank  wine,  and  drank  Mercer's  health  first ; 
which  I  pledged  with  my  hat  off.  "We 
supped  at  home,  and  very  merry.  And  then 
about  nine  o'clock  to  Mrs.  Mercer's  gate, 
where  the  fire  and  boys  exj)ected  us,  and  her 
son  had  provided  abundance  of  serpents  and 
rockets  ;  and  there  mighty  merry  (my  Lady 
Pen  and  Pegg  going  thither  with  us,  and 
Nan  Wright),  till  about  twelve  at  night, 
flinging  our  fireworks,  and  burning  one 
another  and  the  people  over  the  way.  And 
at  last  our  businesses  being  most  spent,  we 
into  Mrs.  Mercer's,  and  there  mighty  meriy. 
Thanksgiving  Day,  A^ig.  14,  1666. 


CARDS 

1\ /r  Y  Lord,  the  Captain,  and  I  supped  in 

-^  * -*-     my  Lord's    chamber,    where    I    did 

perceive  that  he  did  begin  to  show  me  much 

more  respect  than  ever  he  did  yet.      After 

supper,  my  Lord  sent  for  me,  intending  to 

have  me  play  at  cards  with  him,  but  I  not 

knowing  cribbage,  we  fell  into  discourse  of 

man}'  things,  and  the  ship  rolled  so  much 

that  I  was  not  able  to  stand,  and  so  he  bid 

me  go  to  bed. 

Alay  15;  1660. 


SPORTS     AND     PASTIMES  33 

COCK-FIGHTING 

'T*  O  Shoe  Lane  to  see  a  cocke-fighting  at  a 
-*-       new  pit  there,  a  siDot  I  was  never  at 
in  my  life :    but  Lord  !   to  see  the  strange 
variety  of  peojile,  from  Parliament-man  (by 
]iame  "Wildes,  that  was  Deputy  Governor  of 
the  Tower  when  Robinson  was  Lord  Mayor) 
to   the   poorest  'prentices,  bakers,  brewers, 
butchers,  draymen,  and  what  not;  and  all 
these  fellows  one  with  another  cursing  and 
betting.      I  soon  had  enough   of  it.      It  is 
strange  to  see  how  people  of  this  poor  rank, 
that  look  as  if  they  had  not  bread  to  put  in 
their  mouths,  shall  bet  three  or  four  pounds 
at  a  time,  and  lose  it,  and  yet  bet  as  much 
the  next  battle,  so  that  one  of  them  will  lose 
£10  or  £20  at  a  meeting. 

December  21,  1663. 

DAXCING 

jyr  R.  POVY  and  I  to  ^Vhite  Hall ;  he 
■'■*'*■  taking  me  thither  on  purpose  to  carry 
me  into  the  ball  this  night  before  the  King. 
He  brought  me  first  to  the  Duke's  chamber, 
where  I  saw  him  and  the  Duchesse  at  supper ; 
and  thence  into  the  room  where  the  ball  was 
to  be,  crammed  with  fine  ladies,  the  greatest 
of  the  Court.  By  and  by  comes  the  King 
and  Queene,  the  Duke  and  Duchesse,  and 
all  the  great  ones :  and  after  seating  them- 
selves, the  King  takes  out  the  Duchesse  of 


34   LEAVES  FROM  PEPYS   DIARY 

York;    and    the    Duke,    the    Duchesse    of 

Buckingham;  the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  my 

Lady  Castlemaine  ;  and  so  other  lords  other 

ladies  :  and  they  danced  the  Brantie.     After 

that,  the  King  led  a  lady  a  single  Coranto ; 

and  then  the  rest   of  the  lords,  one  after 

another,   other  ladies:   very   noble   it  was, 

and  great  pleasure  to  see.     Then  to  country 

dances  ;  the  King  leading  the  first,  which  he 

called  for;   which  was,  says  he,   'Cuckolds 

all  awry,'  the  old  dance  of  England.     Of  the 

ladies  that  danced,  the  Duke  of  Blonmouth's 

mistress,  and  my  Lady  Castlemaine,  and  a 

daiighter  of  Sir  Harry  de  Yicke's  were  the 

best.      The  manner  was,   when    the  King 

dances,  all  the  ladies  in  the  room,  and  the 

Queene  herself,  stand  up:   and  indeed  he 

dances  rarely,    and  much  better  than  the 

Duke  of  York.     Having  staid  here  as  long 

as  I  thought   fit,  to  my  infinite  content,  it 

being  the  greatest  pleasure  I  could  wish  now 

to  see  at  Court,  I  went  home,  leaving  them 

dancing. 

December  31,  1002. 

UPSTAIRS  we  went,  and  then  fell  into 
dancing  (W.  Batelier  dancing  well), 
and  dressing  him  and  I  and  one  Mr.  Banister 
(who  with  my  wife  come  over  also  with  us) 
like  women  ;  and  Mercer  put  on  a  suit  of 
Tom's,  like  a  boy,  and  mighty  mirth  we  had, 
and  Mercer  danced  a  jigg  ;  and  Nan  ^Vright 


SPORTS     AND     PASTIMES  35 

and  my  wife  and  Pegg  Pen  put  on  perriwigs. 

Thus  we   spent   till    three   or  four   in   the 

morning,  mighty  merry ;   and  then  parted, 

and  to  bed. 

August  14,  1666. 

npO  Mrs.  Pierce's,  where  I  find  her  as  fine 
-*-  as  possible,  and  Mr.  Pierce  going  to 
the  ball  at  night  at  Court,  it  being  the 
Queene's  birthday.  I  also  to  the  ball,  and 
with  much  ado  got  up  to  the  loft,  where  with 
much  trouble  I  could  see  very  well.  Anon 
the  house  grew  full,  and  the  candles  light, 
and  the  King  and  Queene  and  all  the  ladies 
sat :  and  it  was,  indeed,  a  glorious  sight  to 
see  Mrs.  Stewart  in  black  and  white  lace, 
and  her  head  and  shoulders  dressed  with 
diamonds,  and  the  like  many  great  ladies 
more  (only  the  Queene  none) ;  and  the  King 
in  his  rich  vest  of  some  rich  silk  and  silver 
trimming,  as  the  Duke  of  York  and  all  the 
dancers  were,  some  of  cloth  of  silver,  and 
others  of  other  sorts,  exceeding  rich.  Pre- 
sently after  the  King  was  come  in,  he  took 
the  Queene,  and  about  fourteen  more  couple 
there  was,  and  begun  the  Pransles.  As 
man}'  of  the  men  as  I  can  remember  \)ve- 
sently,  were,  the  King,  Duke  of  York, 
Prince  Rupert,  Duke  of  ^Monmouth,  Duke 
of  Buckingham,  Lord  Douglas,  Mr.  Hamilton, 
Colonell  Russell,  Mr.  Griffith,  Lord  Ossory. 
Lord   Rochester ;    and    of    the    ladies,    the 


36       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

Queene,   Duchesse  of  York,   Mrs.  Stewart, 
Duchesse  of  Monmouth,  Lady  Essex  Howard, 
Mrs.  Temple,  Swedes  Embassadresse,  Lad.v 
Arlington,  Lord  George  Barkeley's  daughter, 
and  many  others  I  remember  not;  but  all 
most  excellently  dressed  in  rich  petticoats 
and  gowns,  and  dyamonds  and  pearls.    After 
the   Bransles,  then  to  a  Corant,  and  now 
and  then  a  French  dance ;  but  that  so  rare 
that  the  Corants  grew  tiresome,  that  I  wished 
it  done.     Only  Mrs.  Stewart  danced  mighty 
finely,  and  many  French  dances,  specially 
one  the  King  called  the  New  Dance,  which 
was    very    pretty.      But    upon    the    whole 
matter,  the  business  of  the  dancing  of  itself 
was  not  extraordinary  pleasing.      But  the 
clothes  and  sight  of  the  persons  were  indeed 
very  pleasing,  and  worth  my  coming,  being 
never  likely  to  see  more  gallantry  while  I 
live,  if  I  should  come  tAventy  times.     Above 
twelve   at   night   it  broke   up.      My  Lady 
Castlemaine  (without  whom  all  is  nothing) 
being  there  very  rich,  though  not  dancing. 

November  15,  1666. 

FENCING 

WALKED  to  the  New  Theatre,  which, 
since  the  King's  players  are  gone  to 
the  Royal  one,  is  this  day  begun  to  be 
employed  by  the  fencers  to  play  prizes  at. 
And  here  I  come  and  saw  the  first  prize  I 


SPORTS     AND     PASTIMES  37 

ever  saw  in  my  life  :  and  it  was  between  one 
Mathews,  who  did  beat  at  all  weapons,  and 
one  AVestwicke,  who  was  soundl}-  cut  several 
times  both  in  the  head  and  legs,  'that  he  was 
all  over  blood  :  and  other  deadly  blows  they 
did  give  and  take  in  very  good  earnest,  till 
Westwicke  was  in  a  sad  pickle.     They  fought 
at    eight    weapons,    three    boutes    at    each 
weapon.     This  being  upon  a  private  quarrel, 
they  did  it  in  good  earnest ;  and  I  felt  one 
of  the  swords,  and  found  it  to  be  very  little, 
if  at  all  blunter  on  the  edge,  than  the  common 
swords  are.     Strange  to  see  what  a  deal  of 
money  is  flung  to  them  both  upon  the  stage 
between  every  boute. 

/une  I,  1663. 

FISHING   IN    WINTER 

A  T  the  Coffee-house  I  went  and  sat  by 
Mr.  Harrington,  and  some  East  country 
merchants,  and  talking  of  the  country  above 
Quinsborough,  and  thereabouts,  he  told  us 
himself  that  for  fish,  none  there  the  i)oorest 
body  will  buy  a  dead  fish,  but  must  be  alive, 
unless  it   be  in  the  winter;  and  then  they 
told  us  the  manner  of  jjutting  their  nets  into 
the  water.     Through  holes  made  in  the  thick 
ice,  they  will  spread  a  net  of  half  a  mile  long ; 
and  he  hath  known  a  hundred  and  thirty 
and  a   hundred  and  seventy  barrels  of  fish 
taken  at  one  draught.     And  then  the  people 
come  with  sledges  upon  the  ice,  with  snow 


38       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

at  the  bottome,  and  lay  the  fish  in  and  cover 
them  with    snow,    and  so    carry   them    to 
market.     And  he  hath  seen  when  the  said 
fish  have  been  frozen  in  the  sledge,  so  as  he 
hath  taken  a  fish  and  broke  a-pieces,  so  hard 
it  hath  been  ;  and  yet  the  same  fishes  taken 
out  of  the  snow,  and  brought  into  a  hot  room, 
will  be  alive  and  leap  up  and  down.     Swal- 
lows are  often  brought  up  in  their  nets  out 
of    the   mudd  from  under  water,   hanging 
together  to  some  twigg   or   other,  dead  in 
ropes,  and  brought  to  the  fire  will  come  to 
life.      Fowl  killed  in  December  (Alderman 
Barker  said)  he  did  buy,  and  putting  into 
the  box  under  his  sledge,  did  forget  to  take 
them  out  to  eate  till  Aprill  next,  and  they 
then  were  found  there,   and  were  through 
the  frost  as  sweet  and  fresh  and  eat  as  well 
as  at    first    killed.      Young  beares   appear 
there;  their  flesh  sold  in  market  as  ordin- 
arily as  beef  here,   and  is  excellent  sweet 
meat.      They  tell   us  that  beares  there  do 
never  hurt  any  body,  but  fly  away  from  you, 
unless  3'ou  pursue  and  set  upon  them ;  but 
wolves  do  much  mischief.     Mr.  Harrington 
told  us  how  they  do  to  get  so  much  honey 
as  they  send  abroad.     They  make  hollow  a 
great  fir-tree,  leaving  only  a  small  slitt  down 
straight  in  one  place,  and  this  they  close  up 
again,  only  leave  a  little  hole,  and  there  the 
bees  go  in  and  fill  the  bodys  of  those  trees 
as  full  of  wax  and  honey  as  they  can  hold  ; 


SPORTS    AXD     PASTIMES  39 

and  the  inhabitants  at  times  go  and  open  the 
slit,  and  take  what  the}-  please  without 
killing  the  bees,  and  so  let  them  live  there 
still  and  make  more. 

Decejnber  n,  1663. 

FOOT-RACING 

VXTITH  Mr.  Moore  and  Creed  to  Hide- 
*  *  parke  by  coach,  and  saw  a  fine  foot- 
race three  times  round  the  Park,  between  an 
Irishman  and  Crow,  that  was  once  my  Lord 
Claypoole's  footman. 

August  10,  1660. 

' HANDYCAPP  ' 

'T'O  the  Miter  taverne  in  "Wood-streete 
-*-  (a  house  of  the  greatest  note  in 
London),  where  I  met  ^Y.  Symons,  and 
D.  Scobell,  and  their  -nives,  Mr,  Samford 
Luellin,  Chetwind,  one  Mr,  Yivion,  and 
Mr.  AVhite,  formerly  chaplain  to  the  Lady 
Protectresse  (and  still  so,  and  one  they  say 
that  is  likely  to  get  my  Lady  Francesse  for 
his  wife).  Here  some  of  us  fell  to  handy- 
capp,  a  sport  that  I  never  knew  before. 

September  18,  1660. 

HUNTING 

n^O  Grayes-Inn  walks,  and  there  staid  a 

•^       good  while;   where  I  met  with   Ned 

Pickering,  who  told  me  what  a  great  match 

of  hmitiug  of  a  stagg  the  King  had  yesterday ; 


T 


40       LEAVES     FROM     P  E  P  Y  S       DIARY 

and  how  the  King  tired  all  their  horses,  and 

come  home  with  not  above  two  or  three  able 

to  keep  pace  with  him. 

Atigust  II,  1661. 

'HE   great   entertainment  and  sport  of 

the  Duke  of  Corland,  and  the  princes 

thereabouts,  is  hunting ;  which  is  not  with 

dogs  as  we,  but  he  appoints  such  a  day, 

and  summonses  all  the  country-people  as  to 

a  campagnia  ;  and  by  several  companies  gives 

every  one  their  circuit,  and  they  agree  upon 

a  place  where  the  toyle  is  to  be  set ;  and  so 

making  fires  every  company  as  they  go,  they 

drive  all    the  wild  beasts,   whether  bears, 

wolves,   foxes,    swine,   and  stags,  and  roes, 

into  the  toyle  ;  and  there  the  great  men  have 

their  stands  in  such   and  such  places,  and 

shoot  at  what  they  have  a  mind  to,  and  that 

is  their  hunting.    They  are  not  very  populous 

there,  by  reason  that  people  marry  women 

seldom  till  they  are  towards  or  above  thirty ; 

and  men  thirty  or  forty,  or  more  oftentimes, 

years  old.     Against  a  public  hunting   the 

Duke  sends  that  no  wolves  be  killed  by  the 

people ;   and  whatever  harm  they  do,  the 

Duke  makes  it  good  to  the  person  that  suffers 

it :  as  Mr.  Harrington  instanced  in  a  house 

where  he  lodged,  where  a  wolfe  broke  into  a 

hog-stye,  and  bit  three  or  four  great  pieces 

off  of  the  back  of  the  hog,  before  the  house 

could  come  to  help  it ;  and  the  man  of  the 


SPORTS     AND     PASTIMES  4I 

house  told  him  that  there  were  three  or  four 
wolves  thereabouts  that  did  them  great  hurt ; 
but  it  was  no  matter,  for  the  Duke  was  to 
make  it  good  to  him,  otherwise  he  would 
kill  them.  December  n,  1663. 

XINE-PINS 

TN  the  evening  for  the   first  time,  extra- 

-'■     ordinary  good  sport  among  the  seamen, 

after  my  Lord  had  done  playing  at  nine-i^ins. 

April  i-ij,  1660. 

n^  HEX  into  the  Great  Garden  up  to  the 
-*-  Banqueting  House ;  and  there  by  rnj- 
Lord's  glass  we  drew  in  the  species  very 
pretty.  Afterwards  to  nine-jjins.  Creed  and 
I  playing  against  my  Lord  and  Cooke. 

May  27,  1663. 


PALL  MALL 

'T^O  St.  James's  Park,  where  I  saw  the 
■^  Duke  of  York  playing  at  Pelemele, 
the  first  time  that  ever  I  saw  the  sport. 
Then  to  the  Dolphin  to  Sir  '\V.  Batten,  and 
Pen,  and  other  companj- ;  among  others  Mr. 
Delabar ;  where  strange  how  these  men, 
who  at  other  times  are  all  wise  men,  do  now, 
in  their  drink,  betwitt  and  reiiroach  one 
another  with  their  former  conditions,  and 
their  actions  as  in  public  concerns,  till  I  Avaa 
ashamed  to  see  it.  A/>ril  2,  1661. 


42       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

A  FTERAVAEDS  to  St.  James's  Park, 
-^~~^  seeing  people  play  at  Pell  Mell ;  where 
it  pleased  me  mightily  to  hear  a  gallant, 
lately  come  from  France,  sware  at  one  of 
his  companions  for  suffering  his  man  (a 
spruce  blade)  to  be  so  saucy  as  to  strike  a 
ball  while  his  master  was  playing  on  the  Mall. 

January  4,  1663-4. 

SKATING 

n^O  my  Lord  Sandwich's,  to  Mr.  Moore; 
-■-  and  then  over  the  Parke  (where  I 
first  in  my  life,  it  being  a  great  frost,  did  see 
people  sliding  with  their  skeates,  which  is  a 
very  pretty  art). 

December  i,  1662. 

'T^  O  the  Duke,  and  followed  him  into  the 
-'-  Parke,  where,  though  the  ice  was 
broken  and  dangerous,  yet  he  would  go  slide 
upon  his  scates,  which  I  did  not  like,  but  he 
slides  very  well.  December  15,  1662. 

TENNIS 

VyALKING  through  White  Hall,  I  heard 
*  ^  the  King  was  gone  to  jilay  at  Tennis, 
so  I  down  to  the  New  Tennis  Court,  and 
saw  him  and  Sir  Arthur  Slingsby  jjlay  against 
my  Lord  of  Suffolke  and  my  Lord  Chester- 
field. The  King  beat  three,  and  lost  two 
sets,  they  all,  and  he  particularly  inlaying 
well,  I  thought.  December  28,  1663. 


SPORTS     AND     PASTIMES  43 

T  AVEXT  to  see  a  great  match  at  tennis, 
-■■  between  Prince  Rupert  and  one  Captain 
Cooke  against  Bali.  3Iay  and  the  elder 
Chichi}' ;  where  the  King  was,  and  Court ; 
and  it  seems  thej'  are  the  best  pla^-ers  at' 
tennis  in  the  nation.  But  this  puts  me  in 
mind  of  what  I  observed  in  the  morning, 
that  the  King  playing  at  tennis  had  a  steele- 
yard  carried  to  him  ;  and  I  was  told  it  was 
to  weigh  him  after  he  had  done  i)la3-ing; 
and  at  noon  Mr.  Ashburnham  told  me  that 
it  is  only  the  King's  curiosity,  which  he 
usually  hath  of  weighing  himself  before  and 
after  his  play,  to  see  how  much  he  loses  in 
weight  by  playing;  and  this  day  he  lost 
4Mbs.  September  2,  1667. 


IV 
DUELLING 

Montagu  —  Cholmely.  Jermyn  —  Rawlins. 
Protected  by  armour.  Fled.  Bellasses — 
Porter.  Dead  of  the  duel !  Buckingham — 
Shrewsbury.  Sir  W.  Coventry  challenges 
the  Duke  of  Buckingham — committed  to  the 
Tower,  and  subsequently  released. 


)B..  PIERCE,  the  chjrurgeon, 

told    me    how  Mr.    Edward 

Montagu  hath  lately  had  a 

duell    with    Mr.    Cholmely, 

that  is  first  gentlemau-usher 

to  the  Queene,  and  was  a  messenger  to  her 

from  the  King  of  Portugall,  and  is  a  fine 

gentleman  ;  but  had  received  man}-  affronts 

from   Mr.  Montagu,   and   some  unkindness 

from  my  Lord,  upon  his  score  (for  which  I 

am  sorry).     He  proved  too  hard  for  Montagu, 

and  drove  him  so  far  backward  that  he  fell 

into  a  ditch,  and  dropt  his  sword,  but  with 

honour  would  take  no  advantage  over  him  ; 

but  did  give  him  his  life  :  and  the  world  says 
44 


DUELLING  45 

'My.  Montagu  did  carry  himself  very  poorly 

in  the  business,  and  hath  lost  his  honour  for 

ever  with  all  people  in  it. 

August  6,  1662. 

A  T  the  office  ;  and  Mr.  Coventry  did  tell 
-^~^  us  of  the  duell  between  Mr.  Jermyn, 
nephew  to  my  Lord  St.  Alban's,  and  Colonel 
Giles  Rawlins,  the  latter  of  whom  is  killed, 
and  the  first  mortally  wounded,  as  it  is 
thought.  They  fought  against  Captain 
Thomas  Howard,  m}'  Lord  Carlisle's  brother, 
and  another  unknown  ;  who,  they  say,  had 
armor  on  that  they  could  not  be  hurt,  so  that 
one  of  their  swords  went  up  to  the  hilt  against 
it.  They  had  horses  read}-,  and  are  fled. 
But  what  is  most  strange,  Howard  sent  one 
challenge  before,  but  they  could  not  meet 
till  3'esterday  at  the  old  Pall  Mall  at  St. 
James's,  and  he  would  not  to  the  last  tell 
Jermyn  what  the  quarrel  was ;  nor  do  any 
body  know.  The  Court  is  much  concerned 
in  this  fray,  and  I  am  glad  of  it;  hoping 
that  it  will  cause  some  good  laws  against  it. 

August  19,  1662. 

CREED  did  tell  us  the  story  of  the  duell 
last  night,  in  Covent-garden,  between 
"Sir  H.   Bellasses  and  Tom  Porter.      It   is 
worth    remembering    the    silliness    of    the 
quarrel,  and  is  a  kind  of  emblem   of   the 
general  complexion  of  this  whole  kingdom 


46       LEAVES     FROX     PEPYs'     DIARY 

at  present.  They  two  dined  yesterday  at 
Sir  Robert  Carr's  where  it  seems  people  to 
drink  high,  all  that  come.  It  haj^pened 
that  these  two,  the  greatest  friends  in  the 
world,  were  talking  together  :  and  Sir 
H.  Bellasses  talked  a  little  louder  than 
ordinary  to  Tom  Porter,  giving  of  him  some 
advice.  Some  of  the  companj'  standing  by 
said,  '  "What !  are  they  quarrelling,  that  they 
talk  so  high  ? '  Sir  H.  Bellasses  hearing  it, 
said,  '  No  ! '  says  he :  'I  would  have  j-ou 
know  I  never  qiuirrel,  but  I  strike ;  and  take 
that  as  a  rule  of  mine  ! ' — '  How  ? '  says 
Tom  -  Porter,  '  strike  !  I  would  I  could  see 
the  man  in  England  that  durst  give  me  a 
blow  ! '  with  that  Sir  H.  Bellasses  did  give 
him  a  box  of  the  eare  ;  and  so  they  were 
going  to  fight  there,  but  were  hindered. 
And  by  and  by  Tom  Porter  went  out,  and 
meeting  Dryden  the  poet,  told  him  of  the 
business,  and  that  he  was  resolved  to  fight 
Sir  H.  Bellasses  presently ;  for  he  knew,  if 
he  did  not,  they  should  be  friends  to-morrow, 
and  then  the  blow  would  rest  upon  him ; 
which  he  would  prevent,  and  desired  Drvden 
to  let  him  have  his  boy  to  bring  him  notice 
which  way  Sir  H.  Bellasses  goes.  By  and 
by  he  is  informed  that  Sir  H.  Bellasses's 
coach  was  coming :  so  Tom  Porter  went 
down  out  of  the  Coffee-house  where  he 
stayed  for  the  tidings,  and  stopped  the 
coach,  and  bade  Sir  H.  Bellasses  come  out. 


DUELLING  47 

'AVhy,'  says  H.  Bellasses,  '3'ou  will  not 
hurt  me  coming  out — will  jou  ? '  '  No, '  says 
Tom  Porter.  So  out  he  Avent,  and  both 
drew  :  and  H.  Bellasses  having  drawn  and 
flung  away  his  scabbard,  Tom  Porter  asked 
him  whether  he  was  ready  ?  The  other 
answering  him  he  was,  they  fell  to  fight, 
some  of  their  acquaintance  by.  They 
wounded  one  another,  and  H.  Bellasses  so 
much  that  it  is  feared  he  will  die :  and 
finding  himself  severely  wounded,  he  called 
to  Tom  Porter,  and  kissed  him  and  bade 
him  shift  for  himself  ;  '  for,'  says  he,  '  Tom, 
thou  hast  hurt  me  ;  but  I  will  make  shift  to 
stand  upon  my  legs  till  thou  mayest  with- 
draw, and  the  world  not  take  notice  of  you, 
for  I  would  not  have  thee  troubled  for  what 
thou  hast  done.'  And  so  whether  he  did  fly 
or  no  I  cannot  tell ;  but  Tom  Porter  showed 
H.  Bellasses  that  he  was  wounded  too  :  and 
they  are  both  ill,  but  H.  Bellasses  to  fear  of 
life.  And  this  is  a  fine  example  ;  and  H. 
Bellasses  a  Parliament-man  too,  and  both 
of  them  extraordinary  friends  ! 

July  29,  1667, 

C IR  HENRY  BELLASSES  is  dead  of  the 
•^  duell  he  fought  about  ten  days  ago 
with  Tom  Porter;  and  it  is  pretty  to  see 
how  the  world  talk  of  them  as  a  couple  of 
fools  that  killed  one  another  out  of  love, 

August  8,  1667. 


48       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

MUCH  discourse  of  the  duell  yesterday 
between  the  Duke  of  Buckingham, 
Hohnes,  and  one  Jenkins,  on  one  side,  and 
my  Lord  of  Shrewsbury,  Sir  John  Talbot, 
and  one  Bernard  Howard,  on  the  other  side  : 
and  all  about  my  Lady  Shrewsbury,  who  is 
at  this  time,  and  hath  for  a  great  while  been, 
a  mistress  to  the  Duke  of  Buckingham.  And 
so  her  husband  challenged  him,  and  they 
met  yesterday  in  a  close  near  Barne-Elmes 
and  there  fought :  and  my  Lord  Shrewsbury 
is  run  through  the  body,  from  the  right 
breast  through  the  shoulder ;  and  Sir  John 
Talbot  all  along  up  one  of  his  amies ;  and 
Jenkins  killed  upon  the  place,  and  the  rest 
all  in  a  little  measure  wounded.  This  will 
make  the  world  think  that  the  King  hath 
good  counsellors  about  him,  when  the  Duke 
of  Buckingham,  the  greatest  man  about  him, 
is  a  fellow  of  no  more  sobriety  than  to  fight 

about  a  mistress. 

January  18,  1667-8. 


L 


ORD   SHREWSBURY  is  likely  to  do 
well. 

January  19,  1667-8. 


THEPvE  is  a  pardon  passed  to  the  Duke 
of  Buckingham,  my  Lord  of  Shrews- 
bury and  the  rest,  for  the  late   duell  and 

murder. 

February  5,  1667-8. 


D  r  E  L  L  i  >'  G  49 

A  FTER  dinner  I  to  the  Tower,  where  I 
-^~^  find  Sir  "W.  Coventr}'  with  abundance 
of  company  with  him ;  and  after  sitting 
awhile  and  hearing  some  merry  discourse, 
and,  among  others,  of  Mr.  Brouncker's  being 
this  day  summoned  to  Sir  "William  Morton, 
one  of  the  Judges,  to  give  in  security  for  his 
good  behaviour  upon  his  words  the  other 
day  to  Sir  John  Morton,  a  Parliament-man, 
at  "White  Hall,  who  had  heretofore  si^oke 
very  highly  against  Brouncker  in  the  House, 

I  away,  and  to  Aldgate. 

March  5,  166S-9. 

MIGHTILY  pleased  with  the  news 
Ijrought  me  to-night  that  the  King 
and  Duke  of  York  are  come  back  this  after- 
noon, and  no  sooner  come  but  a  warrant  was 
sent  to  the  Tower  for  the  releasing  Sir 
"W.  Coventry :  which  do  put  me  in  some 
hopes  that  there  may  be  in  this  absence 
some  accommodation  made  between  the 
Duke  of  York  and  the  Duke  of  Buckingham 

and  Lord  Arlington. 

March  20,  1668-q. 

TO  "White  Hall,  in  a  scull ;  where  to  the 
Duke  of  York's  dressing-room,  and 
there  met  Harry  Saville,  and  do  understand 
that  Sir  "W.  Coventry  is  come  to  his  house 
last  night.  I  understand  by  Mr.  "Wren  that 
his  friends  having  by  Secretar}-  Trevor  and 


56       LEAVES     FROM     P  E  P  Y  S       DIARY 

my  Lord  Keeper  applied  to  the  King  iipon 
his  first  coming  home,  and  a  promise  made 
that  he  shovild  be  discharged  this  day,  my 
Lord  Arlington  did  anticipate  them  by  send- 
ing a  warrant  presently  for  his  discharge; 
which  looks  a  little  like  kindness,  or  a  desire 
of  it;  which  God  send  !  though  I  fear  the 
contrary.     However,  my  heart  is  glad  that 

he  is  out. 

March  21,  1668-9. 


IT" f 


V 


PLAYS  AND  PLAYERS 


'  Loj-al  Subject.'  Kinaston,  a  boy  actor. 
Lincoln's  Inn.  'Beggars'  Bush.'  Moone. 
Women  on  the  stage.  *  Argalus  and  Par- 
thenia.'  'Changeling.'  Salsbury  Court 
Theatre.  'Queen's  Mask.'  Whitefriars' 
Theatre.  'The  Bondman.'  Betterton  the 
actor.  'Love's  Mistress.'  Red  Bull.  'All's 
Lost  by  Lust.'  Sir  William  Davenant's 
Opera.  'Siege  of  Rhodes.'  '  Claracilla. ' 
'The  Wits.'  'Jovial  Crew.'  'Bartholomew- 
Fair.'  'Rhodes.'  'Adventures  of  Five 
Hours.'  Col.  Tuke,  pJay-writer.  'Hamlet.' 
'Committee.'  Harris,  the  actor.  Rival 
theatres.  'Indian  Queen.'  Tom  Killigrew. 
'Rival  Ladies.'  'Henry  v.,'  by  Lord  Or- 
rery. Orrery's  '  Mustapha.'  Nell  Gwj-nne. 
'Othello.'  'Love  in  a  Tub.'  'Custom 
of  the  Country.'  'Every  ^lan  in  his 
Humour.'  '  English  Princess,  or  Richard 
III.'  Miss  Davis,  dancer.  Lady  Newcastle's 
'  Humorous  Lo\ers.'  Howard's  'Change  of 
Crowns.'  '.Silent  Woman.'  Lord  Orrery's 
'Black  Prince.'  'Catiline.'  'School  of 
Compliments.'      'Henry    iv.'      'Wildgoose 

51 


52       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

Chase.'  Sir  C.  Sedley's  '  Wandering  Ladies." 
'Duke  of  Lorane.'  'Indian  Emperor.' 
Sir  R.  Howard's  '  Duke  of  Lerma.'  '  Alble- 
manazar.'  Jonson's  ' Alchymist.'  'Virgin 
INIartyr.'  Beck  Marshall.  'Discontented 
Colonel.'  'Impertinents.'  Haynes,  the 
dancer.  'Sea Voyage.'  Sedley's  '  Mulberry 
Garden.'  '  Philaster.'  Shirley's  '  Hyde 
Park.'  Lacy's  '  M.  Ragout.'  'Guardian.' 
'Cutter  of  Coleman  Street.'  'Usurper.' 
'  Unfortunate  Lovers.'  '  Catiline's  Con- 
spiracy.' 'Heiress.'  'Moor  of  Venice.' 
'  Island  Princess.'  '  Royal  Shepherdess.' 
'  Faithful  Shepherdess.'     '  Lady's  Trial.' 

■APTAIN  FERRERS  took  me 
and  Creed  to  the  Cockpitt 
pla}^  the  first  that  I  have  had 
time  to  see  since  my  coming 
from  sea,  'The  Loyall  Sub- 
ject,' wliere  one  Kinaston,  a  boy,  acted  the 
Duke's  sister,  but  made  the  loveliest  lady 
that  ever  I  saw  in  my  life. 

Atigust  1 8,  1660. 


MR.  SHEPLEY  and  I  to  the  new  play- 
house near  Lincoln's  -  Inn  -  Fields 
(which  was  formerly  Gibbon's  tennis-court), 
where  the  play  of  'Beggars'  Bush'  was 
newly  begun;  and  so  we  went  in  and  saw 
it  well  acted :  and  here  I  saw  the  first  time 
one  Moone,  who  is  said  to  be  the  best  actor 
in  the  world,  lately  come  over  with  the  King, 


PLAYS     A  X  D     PLAYERS  53 

and   indeed   it   is   the   finest  play-house,    I 
believe,  that  ever  was  in  England. 

November  20,  1660. 

TO  the  Theatre,  where  was  acted  '  Beg- 
gars'Bush,'  it  being  very  well  done; 
and  here  the  first  time  that  ever  I  saw 
women  come  upon  the  stage. 

January  3,  1660-1. 

TO  the  theatre,  and  there  sat  in  the  pitt 
among  the  company  of  fine  ladys,  &c.  ; 
and  the  house  was  exceeding  full,  to  see 
'  Argalus  and  Parthenia,'  the  first  time  that 
it  hath  been  acted :  and  indeed  it  is  good, 
though  wronged  by  my  over  great  expecta- 
tions, as  all  things  else  are. 

Jajinary  31,  1660-1. 

'T*  O  the  Play-house,  and  there  saw  '  The 

^       Changeling,'   the    first  time  it  hath 

been  acted  these  twenty-  years,  and  it  takes 

exceedingl}-.     Besides,  I  see  the  gallants  do 

begin  to  be  tyred  with  the  vanity  and  i^ride 

of  the  theatre  actors,  who  are  indeed  grown 

very  proud  and  rich. 

February  23,  1660-1. 

'T^O  AVhite-fryars,  and  saw  'The  Bond- 
-'-       man '  acted ;   an   excellent  play   and 
well  done.     But  above  all  that  ever  1  saw, 
Beterton  do  the  Bondman  the  best. 

March  i,  1660-1. 


54       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

AFTER  dinner  I  went  to  the  theatre, 
where  I  found  so  few  people  (which  is 
strange,  and  the  reason  I  do  not  know)  that 
I  went  out  again,  and  so  to  Salsbury  Court, 
where  the  house  as  full  as  could  be ;  and  it 
seems  it  was  a  new  play,  'The  Queen's 
Maske,'  wherein  there  are  some  good 
humours :  among  others,  a  good  jeer  to  the 
old  story  of  the  Siege  of  Troy,  making  it  to 
be  a  common  country  tale.  But  above  all  it 
was  strange  to  see  so  little  a  boy  as  that  was 
to  act  Cupid,  which  is  one  of  the  greatest 
parts  in  it.  March  2,  1660-1. 

AFTER  dinner  I  went  to  the  theatre,  and 
there  saw  'Love's  Mistress'  done  by 
them,  which  I  do  not  like  in  some  things  as 
well  as  their  acting  in  Salsbury  Court. 

MarcJi  II,  1661. 

TO  the  Red  Bull  (where  I  had  not  been 
since  plays  come  up  again)  up  to  the 
tireing-room,  where  strange  the  confusion 
and  disorder  that  there  is  among  them  in 
fitting  themselves,  especially  here,  where 
the  clothes  are  very  poore,  and  the  actors 
but  common  fellows.  At  last  into  the  pitt, 
where  I  think  there  was  not  above  ten  more 
than  myself,  and  not  one  hundred  in  the 
whole  house.  And  the  play,  which  is  called 
'All's  lost  by  Lust,'  poorly  done;  and  with 
so  much    disorder,   among    others,   in    the 


PLAYS     AXD    TLATERS  55 

musique-room  the  boy  that  Avas  to  sing  a 
song,  not  singing  it  right,  his  master  fell 
about  his  eares  and  beat  him  so,  that  it  put 
the  whole  house  in  an  ui^rore, 

March  23,  1661. 

VA/'EXT  to  Sir  William  Davenant's  Opera  ; 
this  being  the  fourth  daj-  that  it  hath 
begun,  and  the  first  that  I  have  seen  it. 
To-day  was  acted  the  second  i>art  of  'The 
Siege  of  Rhodes.'      We  staid  a  very  great 
while  for  the  King  and  Queen  of  Bohemia. 
And  by  the  breaking  of  a   board  over  our 
heads,  we  had  a  great  deal  of  dust  fell  into 
the  ladies'  necks  and  the  men's  haire,  which 
made  good  sport.     The  King  being  come, 
the  scene  opened  ;  which  indeed  is  very  fine 
aiid  magnificent,  and  well  acted,  all  but  the 
Eunuche,  who  was  so  much  out  that  he  was 
hissed  off  the  stage. 

July  2,  1661. 

T  WENT  to  the  theatre,  and  there  I  saw 
'  Claracilla '  (the  first  time  I  ever  saw  it), 
well  acted.  But  strange  to  see  this  house,' 
that  used  to  be  so  thronged,  now  empty  since 
the  Opera  begun  ;  and  so  will  continue  for  a 
while,  I  believe. 

Jtily  4,  1661. 

nrO  the  Opera,  which  begins  again  to-day 

-■-       with  'The  Witts,'  never  acted  yet  with 

scenes;  and  the  King  and  Duke  and  Duchesse 


56   LEAVES  FROM  PEPYs'  DiAR-Jf 

were    there    (who    dined    to-day  with    Sir 

H.  Finch,  reader  at  the  Temple,  in  great 

state) ;  and  indeed  it  is  a  most   excellent 

play,  and  admirable  scenes. 

August  15,  1661. 

MY  wife  and  I  to  the  theatre,  and  there 
saw  'The  Joviall  Crew,'  where  the 
King,  Duke  and  Duchesse,  and  Madame 
Palmer,  were  ;  and  my  wife,  to  her  great 
content,  had  a  fnll  sight  of  them  all  the  while. 

August  27,  1661. 

HAYING  appointed  the  young  ladies  at 
the  Wardrobe  to  go  with  them  to  the 
play  to-day,  my  wife  and  I  took  them  to  the 
theatre,  where  we  seated  ourselves  close  by 
the  King,  and  Duke  of  York,  and  Madame 
Palmer,  which  was  great  content;  and, 
indeed,  I  can  never  enough  admire  her 
beauty.  And  here  was  '  Bartholomew  Fay  re, ' 
with  the  puppet-showe,  acted  to  day,  which 
had  not  been  these  forty  years,  (it  being  so 
satyricall  against  puritanism,  they  durst  not 
till  now,  which  is  strange  they  should 
already  dare  to  do  it,  and  the  King  do  coun- 
tenance it, )  but  I  do  never  a  whit  like  it  the 
better  for  the  puppets,  but  rather  the  worse. 
Thence  home  with  the  ladies,  it  being,  by 
reason  of  our  staying  a  great  while  for  the 
King's  coming,  and  the  length  of  the  play, 
near  nine  o'clock  before  it  was  done. 

September  7,  1661. 


PLAYS     A  y  D     PLAYERS  57 

T  ^ /"ITH  nij  wife  to  the  Oi^era,  where  we 
^  *  saw  '  The  Boudman,'  which  of  old  we 
both  did  so  doate  on,  and  do  still ;  though 
to  both  our  thinking  not  so  well  acted  hei'e, 
(having  too  great  expectations)  as  formerly 
at  Salisbury-court.  But  for  Beterton,  he  is 
called  by  us  both  the  best  actor  in  the  world. 

November  4,  1661. 

A 1  HTH  my  wife  to  the  Duke's  Theatre, 
*  *  and  saw  the  second  part  of  '  Rhodes,' 
done  with  the  new  Roxalana  ;  which  do  it 
rather  better  in  all  respects  for  person,  voice, 
and  judgment,  than  the  first  Roxalana. 

December  1"],  1662. 

TO  the  Cockpitt,  where  we  saw  'Clara- 
cilia,  '  a  poor  pla}',  done  by  the  King's 
house ;  but  neither  the  King  nor  Queene 
were  there,  but  onl}-  the  Duke  and  Duchesse. 

January  5,  1662-3. 

TWINED  at  home;  and  there  being  the 
-*-^  famous  new  play  acted  the  first  time 
to-da}',  which  is  called  'The  Adventures  of 
Five  Hours,' at  the  Duke's  house,  being,  they 
saj',  made  or  translated  b}-  Colonel  Tuke,  I 
did  long  to  see  it ;  and  so  we  went ;  and 
though  early,  were  forced  to  .^^it,  almost  out 
of  sight,  at  the  end  of  one  of  the  lower 
formes,  so  full  was  the  house.  And  the 
play,  in  one  word,  is  the  best,  for  the  variety 


58       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

and  the  most  excellent  continuance  of  the 

plot  to  the  very  end,  that  ever  I  saw,  or 

think  ever  shall. 

January  5,  1662-3. 

T)  Y  water  to  the  Ro^-al  Theatre ;  but  that 
■^  was  so  full  the}-  told  us  we  could  have 
110  room.  And  so  to  the  Duke's  house ;  and 
there  saw  'Hamlett'  done,  giving  us  fresh 
reason  never  to  think  enough  of  Betterton. 
Who  should  we  see  come  upon  the  stage  but 
Gosnell,  my  wife's  maid  ?  but  neither  spoke, 
■danced,  nor  sung  ;  Avhich  I  was  sorry  for. 

May  28,  1663. 

'T^O  the  Royal  Theatre  ;  and  there  saw 
-*•  'The  Committee,'  a  merry  but  indif- 
ferent play,  only  Lacey's  part,  an  Irish 
footman,  is  bej'ond  imagination.  Here  I 
saw  my  Lord  Falconbridge,  and  his  Lady, 
my  Lady  Mary  Cromwell,  Avho  looks  as  well 
as  I  have  known  her,  and  well  clad :  but 
when  the  House  began  to  fill  she  put  on  her 
vizard,  and  so  kept  it  on  all  the  pla}' ;  which 
of  late  is  become  a  great  fashion  among  the 
ladies,  which  hides  their  whole  face.  So  to 
the  Exchange,  to  buy  things  with  xny  wife ; 
among  others,  a  vizard  for  herself. 

June  12,  1663. 

^liyOTTEN  tells  me  the  reason  of  Harris's 

*  ''      going    from    Sir    AVm.    Davenant's 

house    is,   that    he   grew  very    proud    and 


PLAYS     AND     PLAYERS  59 

demanded   £20  for  himself    extraordinarj-, 

more  than  Betterton  or  any  body  else,  upon 

every  new  play,  and  £10  upon  every  revive 

which  A\-ith  other  things  Sir  VT.  Davenant 

would  not  give  him,  and  so  he   swore  he 

would  never  act  there  more,  in  expectation 

of  being  received  in  the  other  House  ;  but 

the    King    will    not    suffer     it,    upon    Sir 

W.   Davenant's  desire  that  he  would  not, 

for  then  he  might  shut  up  house,  and  that  is 

true.     He  tells  me  that  his  going  is  at  present 

a  great  loss  to  the  House,  and  that  he  feats 

he  hath   a   stipend  from   the  other  House 

privately.     He  tells  me  that  the  fellow  grew 

very  i^roud  of  late,  the  King  and  every  body 

else  crying  him  up  so  high,  and  that  above 

Betterton  he  being  a  more  ayery  man,  as  he 

is  indeed.     But  yet  Betterton,  he  says,  they 

all  say  do  act  some  parts  that  none  but 

himself  can  do.  /ufy  22,  1663. 

/"^ALLIXG  at  'SVotton's,  my  shoemaker's, 
^^-^  to-day,  he  tells  me  that  Sir  H.  Wright 
is  dying;  and  that  Harris  is  come  to  the 
Duke's  house  again  ;  and  of  a  rare  play  to 
be  acted  this  week  of  Sir  William  Davenant's. 
The  story  of  Henry  the  Eighth  with  all  his 
wives.  Dcccvibey  10,  1663. 

'T^O   the  King's  Theatre,  and  there  saw 

^       'The   Indian    Queen'  acted;    which 

indeed  is  a  most  pleasant  show,  and  bevond 


6o       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARV 

my  expectation ;  the  play  good,  but  spoiled 

with    the  ryme    which    breaks    the   sense. 

But  above  my  expectation  most,  the  eldest 

Marshall  did  do  her  part  most  excellently 

well  as   I   ever  heard  woman  in  mj'  life  ; 

but  her  voice  is  not  so  sweet  as  lanthe's ; 

but,    however,    we    come    home    mightih' 

contented. 

February  i,  1663-4. 


TO  the  King's  pla^'-house,  and  there  saw 
'  Bartholomew  Fayre ' ;  which  do  still 
please  me ;  and  is,  as  it  is  acted,  the  best 
comedy  in  the  world,  I  believe.  I  chanced 
to  sit  by  Tom  Killigrew,  who  tells  me  that 
he  is  setting  up  a  nurserj- ;  that  is,  is  going 
to  build  a  house  in  Moorefields,  wherein  he 
will  have  common  plays  acted.  But  four 
operas  it  shall  have  in  the  j^ear,  to  act  six 
weeks  at  a  time  :  where  we  shall  have  the 
best  scenes  and  machines,  the  best  musique, 
and  everj'thing  as  magnificent  as  is  in 
Christendome  ;  and  to  that  end  hath  sent 
for  voices  and  painters  and  other  persons 
from  Italy. 

August  2,  1664. 


TO  a  play  at  the  King's  house,  '  The 
Rivall  Ladys,'  a  ver}^  innocent  and 
most  prett}'  witty  play.  I  was  much  jileased 
with  it,  and  it  being  given  me,  I  look  uj^on 


PLAYS     A  X  D     PLAYERS  6l 

it  as  no  breach  of  1113-  oath.  Here  we  hear 
that  Cluu,  one  of  their  best  actors,  was,  the 
last  night,  going  out  of  towne  (after  he  had 
acted  the  'Alchj-mist,'  wherein  was  one  of 
his  best  parts  that  he  acts)  to  his  country- 
house,  set  upon  and  murdered;  one  of  the 
rogues  taken,  an  Irish  fellow.  It  seems 
most  cruelly  butchered  and  bound.  The 
house  will  have  a  great  miss  of  him. 

August  4,  1664. 

T^O  the  new  jjlay,  at  the  Duke's  house, 
-■-  of  '  Henry  the  Fifth ' ;  a  most  noble 
play,  writ  by  my  Lord  Orrery,  wherein 
Betterton,  Harris,  and  lanthe's  parts  most 
incomjmrably  wrote  and  done,  and  the  whole 
play  the  most  full  of  height  and  raptures  of 
wit  and  sense,  that  ever  I  heard;  having 
but  one  incongruity,  that  King  Harry 
promises  to  plead  for  Tudor  to  their  Mis- 
tress, Princesse  Katherine  of  France,  more 
than  when  it  comes  to  it  he  seems  to  do; 
and  Tudor  refused  by  her  with  some  kind  of 
indignity,  not  with  a  difficulty  and  honour 
that  it  ought  to  have  been  done  in  to  him. 

August  13,  1664. 

nrO  a  play  at  the  Duke's,  of  my  Lord 
^  Orrery's,  called  'Mustapha,'  which 
being  not  good,  made  Betterton's  part  and 
lanthe's  but  ordinary  too.  All  the  pleasure 
of  the  play  was,  tlie  King  and  my  Lady 


62       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

Castlemaine  were  there  ;   and  pretty  witty 

Nell,  at  the  King's  house,  and  the  younger 

Marshall   sat  next  us ;    which  pleased  me 

mightily. 

April  3,  1665. 

npO  Deptford  by  water,  reading  '  Othello, 
-■-  Moore  of  Venice,'  which  I  ever  here- 
tofore esteemed  a  mighty  good  play,  but 
having  so  lately  read  '  The  Adventures  of 
Five  Houres,'  it  seems  a  mean  thing. 

August  20,  1666. 

nn  O  White  Hall,  and  into  the  new  play- 

-'-       house  there,  the  first  time  I  ever  was 

there,  and  the  first  play  I  have  seen  since 

before  the  great  plag-ue.  By  and  by  Mr.  Pierce 

comes,  bringing  my  wife  and  his,  and  Knij^p, 

By  and  by  the  King  and  Queen,  Duke  and 

Duchesse,   and  all  the  great  ladies  of  the 

Court ;  which,  indeed,  was  a  fine  sight.    But 

the  play,  being  'Love  in  a  Tub,' a  silly  play, 

and  though  done  by  the  Duke's  people,  3'et 

having  neither  Beterton  nor  his  wife,  and 

the  whole  thing  done  ill,  and  being  ill  also, 

I  had  no  manner  of  jjleasure  in  the  play. 

Besides,  the  House,   though  very  fine,   yet 

bad  for  the  voice,  for  hearing.     The  sight  of 

the  ladies  indeed,  Avas  exceeding  noble  ;  and 

above  all,  m\'  Lady  Castlemaine.     The  play 

done  by  ten  o'clock. 

October  29,  1666. 


PLAYS     AND     PLAYERS  63 

A  LOXE  to  the  King's  house,  and  there 
-^^*-  saw  'The  Custome  of  the  Country,' 
the  second  time  of  its  being  acted,  wherein 
Knipp  does  the  AVidow  well ;  but  of  all  the 
plays  that  ever  I  did  see,  the  worst,  having 
neither  plot,  language,  nor  any  thing  in  the 
earth  that  is  acceptable;  only  Knipp  sings 
a  song  admirably.  Jaywary  2,  1666-7  ° 

O  EAD  a  piece  of  a  play,  '  Every  Man  in 
-^^     his  Humour,'  wherein  is  the  greatest 
propriety  of  speech  that  ever  I  read  in  my 
life  ;  and  so  to  bed.  February  g,  1666-7. 

n^O  Devonshire  House,  to  a  burial  of  a 
-■■  kinsman  of  Sir  R.  Viner's  ;  and  there 
I  received  a  ring.  To  the  Duke's  playhouse, 
and  saw  '  The  English  Princesse,  or  Richard 
the  Third';  a  most  sad,  melancholy  play, 
and  pretty  good,  but  nothing  eminent  in  it, 
as  some  tragedy s  are  ;  only  little  Miss  Davis 
did  dance  a  jigg  after  the  end  of  the  plav, 
and  there  telling  the  next  day's  play,  so  that 
it  come  in  by  force  only  to  j^lease  the  com- 
})any  to  see  her  dance  in  boy's  clothes  ;  and 
the  truth  is,  there  is  no  comparison  between 
Nell's  dancing  the  other  day  at  the  King's 
house  in  boy's  clothes  and  this,  this  being 
infinitely  beyond  the  other.  This  day  was 
reckoned  by  all  people  the  coldest  day  tliat 
ever  was  remembered  in  England  ;  and  God 
knows,  coals  at  a  very  great  price. 

March  7,  1666-7. 


64      LEA.VES     FROM    PEPYs'     DIARY 

TO  see  the  silly  play  of  my  Lady  New- 
castle's, called  'The  Humourous 
Lovers ' ;  the  most  silly  thing  that  ever 
came  upon  a  stage.  I  was  sick  to  see  it,  but 
yet  would  not  but  have  seen  it,  that  I  might 

the  better  understand  her, 

March  30,  1667. 

TO  the  King's  house  by  chance,  where 
a  new  play  :  so  full  as  I  never  saw 
it ;  I  forced  to  stand  all  the  while  close  to 
the  very  door  till  I  took  cold,  and  many 
people  went  away  for  want  of  room.  The 
King  and  Queene  and  Duke  of  York  and 
Duchesse  there,  and  all  the  Court,  and  Sir 
W.  Coventry.  The  play  called  '  The  Change 
of  Crownes ' ;  a  play  of  Ned  Howard's,  the 
best  that  I  ever  saw  at  that  house,  being  a 
great  play  and  serious ;  only  Lacy  did  act 
the  country-gentleman  come  up  to  Court, 
who  do  abuse  the  Court  with  all  the 
imaginable  wit  and  plainness  about  selling 
of  places,  and  doing  every  thing  for  money. 
The  play  took  very  much.  Carried  my  wife 
to  see  the  new  play  I  saw  yesterday ;  but 
there,  contrary  to  expectation,  I  find  'The 

Silent  AYoman.' 

April  15,  1667. 

KNIPP  tells  me  the  King  was  so  angrj' 
at  the  liberty  taken  by  Lacy's  part  to 
abuse  him  to  his  face,  that  he  commanded 
they  should  act  no  more,  till  Moone  went 


PLAYS     AND     PLAYERS  65 

and  got  leave  for  them  to  act  again,  but  not 
this  play.     The  King  mighty  angry ;  and  it 
was  bitter  indeed,  but  very  fine  and  witty. 
I  never  was  more  taken  with  a  play  than  I 
am  with  this  'Silent  Woman,' as  old  as  it 
is,  and  as  often  as  I  have  seen  it.     There  is 
more  wit  in  it  than  goes  to  ten  new  plays. 
Pierce  told  us  the  story  how  in  good  earnest 
the  King  is  offended  with  the  Duke  of  Rich- 
mond's marrying,  and  Mrs.  Stewart's  sending 
the  King  his  jewels  again.     As  she  tells  it. 
It  is  the  noblest  romance  and  example  of  a 
brave  lady  that  ever  I  read  in  my  life. 

April  16,  1667. 

jV/r  ET  Mr.  Rolt,  who  tells  me  the  reason 
of    no    play    to-day   at   the    King's 
house.     That  Lacy  had  been  committed  to 
the  porter's  lodge  for  his  acting  his  part  in 
the  late  new  play,  and  being  thence  released 
to  come  to  the  King's  house,  he  there  met 
with  Ned  Howard,  the  poet  of  the  play,  who 
congratulated  his  release  ;  upon  which  Lacy 
cursed  him  as  that  it  was  the  fault  of  his 
nonsensical  play  that  was  the  cause  of  his 
ill  usage.     Mr.  Howard  did  give  him  some 
reply  :  to  which  Lacy  answered  him,  that  he 
was  more  a  fool  than  a  poet ;  upon  which 
Howard  did  give  him  a  blow  on  the  face  with 
his  glove ;  on  which  Lacy,  having  a  cane  in 
his  hand,  did  give  him  a  blow  over  the  pate. 
Here  Rolt  and  others  that  discoursed  of  it  in 


66      LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

the  pit  this  afternoon,  did  wonder  that 
Howard  did  not  run  him  through,  he  being 
too  mean  a  fellow  to  fight  with.  But 
Howard  did  not  do  any  thing  but  complain 
to  the  King  of  it ;  so  the  whole  house  is 
silenced,  and  the  gentry  seem  to  rejoice 
much  at  it,  the  house  being  become  too 
insolent.  April  ^o,  1667. 

TO  the  Duke  of  York's  playhouse,  and 
there  saw  '  Mustapha ' ;  which  the 
more  I  see  the  more  I  like ;  and  is  a  most 
admirable  poem  and  bravely  acted ;  only 
both  Betterton  and  Harris  could  not  contain 
from  laughing  in  the  midst  of  a  most  serious 
part,  from  the  ridiculous  mistake  of  one  of 
the  men  upon  the  stage ;  which  I  did  not  like. 

September  4,  1667. 

FULL  of  my  desire  of  seeing  my  Lord 
Orrery's  new  play  this  afternoon  at 
the  King's  house,  'The  Black  Prince,'  the 
first  time  it  is  acted ;  where  though  we  came 
by  two  o'clock,  yet  there  was  no  room 
in  the  pit,  but  were  forced  to  go  into  one 
of  the  upper  boxes,  at  4s,  a  piece,  which 
is  the  first  time  I  ever  sat  in  a  box  in  my 
life.  And  in  the  same  box  came  by  and  by 
behind  me,  my  Lord  Barkeley  and  his  lady  ; 
but  I  did  not  turn  my  face  to  them  to  be 
known,  so  that  I  was  excused  from  giving 
them  my  seat.     And  this  pleasure  I  had, 


P  L  A  Y  .S     AND     PLAYERS  67 

that  from  this  place  the  scenes  do  ai)pear 
veiy  fine  indeed,  and  much  better  than  in 
the  pit.  The  house  infinite  full,  and  the 
King  and  Duke  of  York  there.  The  whole 
house  was  mightily  pleased  all  along  till  the 
reading  of  a  letter,  which  was  so  long  and  so 
unnecessary  that  they  frequently  began  to 
laugh,  and  to  hiss  twenty  times,  that  had  it 
not  been  for  the  King's  being  there,  they 
had  certainly  hissed  it  off  the  stage. 

October  19,  1667. 

T    MET  Harris  the  player,  and  talked  of 

•^      '  Catiline,'  which  is  to  be  suddenly  acted 

at  the  King's  house  ;  and  there  all  agree  that 

it  cannot  be  well  done  at  that  hoiise,  there 

not  being  good   actors  enough :    and   Burt 

acts  Cicero,  which  they  all  conclude  he  will 

not  be  able  to  do  well.    The  King  gives  them 

£500  for  robes,  there  being,  as  they  say,  to 

be  sixteen  scarlet  robes. 

December  11,  1667. 

TO  the  Nursery;  but  the  house' did  not 
act  to-day  ;  and  so  I  to  the  other  two 
playhouses  into  the  pit  to  gaze  up  and  down : 
and  there  did  by  this  means  for  nothing  see 
an  act  in  '  The  Schoole  of  Comi)liments '  at 
the  Duke  of  York's  house,  and  '  Henry  the 
Fourth'  at  the  King's  house  ;  but  not  liking 
either  of  the  plays,  I  took  my  coach  again, 
and  home. 

January  7,  1667-8. 


68       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

TO  the  King's  house,  to  see  ' The  Wild- 
goose  Cliase.'  In  this  play  I  met  with 
nothing  extraordinary  at  all,  but  very  dull 
inventions  and  designs.  Knipp  came  and 
sat  by  us,  and  her  talk  pleased  me  a  little, 
she  tells  me  how  Miss  Davis  is  for  certain 
going  away  from  the  Duke's  house,  the  King 
being  in  love  with  her ;  and  a  house  is  taken 
for  her,  and  furnishing ;  and  she  hath  a 
ring  given  her  already  worth  £600  :  that  the 
King  did  send  several  times  for  Nell}^  and 
she  was  with  him ;  and  I  am  sorry  for  it, 
and  can  hope  for  no  good  to  the  State  from 
having  a  Prince  so  devoted  to  his  pleasure. 
She  told  me  also  of  a  play  shortly  coming 
upon  the  stage  of  Sir  Charles  Sedley's,  which, 
she  thinks,  will  be  called  '  The  Wandering 
Ladys,'  a  comedy  that  she  thinks  will  be 
most  pleasant ;  and  also  another  play,  called 
'The  Duke  of  Lorane':  besides  'Catiline,' 
which  she  thinks,  for  want  of  the  clothes 
which  the  King  promised  them,  will  not  be 

acted  for  a  good  while. 

January  ii,  1667-8. 

THENCE  by  coach  to  Mrs.  Pierce's, 
where  my  wife  is ;  and  there  they  fell 
to  discourse  of  the  last  night's  work  at 
Court,  where  the  ladies  and  Duke  of  Mon- 
mouth and  others  acted  '  The  Indian 
Emperour ' ;  wherein  they  told  me  these 
things    most    remarkable :     That    not    anj- 


PLAYS     AND     PLAYERS  69 

woman  but  the  Ducliesse  of  Monmouth  and 
Mrs.  Cornwallis  did  any  thing  but  like  fools 
and  stocks,  but  that  these  two  did  do  most 
extraordinarilj-  well :  that  not  any  man  did 
any  thing  well  but  Captain  Olrigran,  who 
spoke  and  did  well,  but  above  all  things  did 
dance  most  incomparably, 

Janjiary  14,  1667-8. 

■p\  INED,  and  by  one  o'clock  to  the  King's 
^—'  house:  a  new  play,  'The  Duke  of 
Lerma,'  of  Sir  Robert  Howard's:  where  the 
King  and  Court  was;  and  Knipp  and  Xell 
spoke  the  prologue  most  excellently,  especi- 
ally Knipp,  who  spoke  beyond  any  creature 
I  ever  heard.  The  play  designed  to  reproach 
our  King  with  his  mistresses,  that  I  was 
troubled  for  it,  and  expected  it  should  be 
interrupted ;  but  it  ended  all  well,  which 
salved  all. 

February  20,  1667-8. 

'T'O  the  Duke's  playhouse,  and  there  saw 
•*•  '  Alblemanazar,'  an  old  play,  this  the 
second  time  of  acting.  It  is  said  to  have 
lieen  the  ground  of  B.  Jonson's  '  Alchymist ' ; 
but,  saving  the  ridiculousnesse  of  Angell's 
part,  which  is  called  Trinkilo,  I  do  not  see 
any  thing  extraordinary  in  it,  but  was  indeed 
wary  of  it  before  it  was  ck)ne.  The  King 
here  ;  and  indeed  all  of  us  pretty  merry  at 
the  mimique  tricks  of  Trinkilo. 

February  22,  1667-8. 


JO       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

WITH  my  wife  to  the  King's  house  to 
see  'The  Virgin  Martj^r,'  the  first 
time  it  hath  been  acted  a  great  while :  and 
it  is  mighty  pleasant ;  not  that  the  play  is 
worth  much,  but  it  is  finely  acted  by  Beck 
Marshall.  But  that  which  did  please  me 
bej'ond  any  thing  in  the  whole  world,  was 
the  wind-musique  when  the  angel  comes 
down  ;  which  is  so  sweet  that  it  ravished 
me,  and  indeed,  in  a  word,  did  wrap  up  my 
soul  so  that  it  made  me  really  sick,  just  as  I 
have  formerly  been  when  in  love  with  my 
wife ;  that  neither  then,  nor  all  the  evening 
going  home,  and  at  home,  I  was  able  to 
think  of  any  thing,  but  remained  all  night 
transported,  so  as  I  could  not  believe  that 
ever  any  musique  hath  that  real  command 
over  the  soul  of  a  man  as  this  did  upon  me  ; 
and  makes  me  resolved  to  practice  wind- 
musique,  and  to  make  my  wife  do  the  like. 

February  27,  1667-8. 

A  FTER  dinner  to  the  King's  house,  and 

-^~^     there  saw  part  of  '  The  Discontented 

Colonell.' 

March  5,  1667-8. 

TO  the  King's  playhouse,  and  there  saw 
'The  English  Monsieur'  (sitting  for 
privac}'  sake  in  an  upper  box) :  the  play 
hath  much  mirth  in  it  as  to  that  particular 
humour.  After  the  play  done  I  down  to 
Knipp,  and  did  stay  her  undressing  herself : 


!•  L  A  Y  S     A  X  D     PLAYERS  7I 

and  there  saw  the  several  players,  men  and^ 
women,  go  by;  and  pretty  to  see  how 
strange  they  are  all,  one  to  another,  after' 
the  i)lay  is  done.  Here  I  hear  Sir  \V. 
Davenant  is  just  now  dead;  and  so  who 
will  succeed  him  in  the  mastership  of  the 
House  is  not  yet  known. 

April  T,  i663.- 

T  UP  and  down  to  the  Duke  of  York's 
■*■  playhouse,  there  to  see,  wliich  I  did, 
Sir  W.  Davenant's  corpse,  carried  out  to- 
wards "Westminster,  there  to  be  buried. 
Here  were  many  coaches  and  six  horses, 
and  many  hacknies,  that  made  it  look^ 
methought,  as  if  it  were  the  buriall  of  a 
poor  poet.  He  seemed  to  have  many  chil- 
dren, by  five  or  six  in  the  first  mourning- 
coach,  all  boys.  April  c^,  1668. 

r^REED  and  I  to  the  Duke  of  York's 
^^  playhouse;  and  there  coming  late, 
up  to  the  balcony-box,  where  we  find  my 
Lady  Castlemaine  and  several  great  ladies  ; 
and  there  we  sat  with  them,  and  I  saw 
'The  Impertinents '  once  more,  now  three 
times,  and  the  three  only  days  it  hath  been 
acted.  And  to  see  the  folly  how  the  house 
do  this  day  cry  up  the  play  more  than 
yesterday  !  and  I  for  that  reason  like  it,  I 
find,  the  better  too.  By  Sir  Positive  At-all, 
I  understand  is  meant  Sir  Robert  Howard. 


72       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

My  Lady  pretty  well  pleased  with  it:  but 

here  I  sat  close  to  her  fine  womau,  Willson, 

who  indeed  is  very  handsome,  but,  they  say, 

with  child  by  the  King.     I  asked,  and  she 

told  me  this  was  the  first  time  her  Lady  had 

^een  it,  I  having  a  mind  to  say  something  to 

Iher.     One  thing  of  familiarit}^  I  observed  in 

sny  Lady  Castlemaine  :  she  called  to  one  of 

ter  women,  another  that  sat  by  this,  for  a 

little  patch  off  of  her  face,  and  put  it  into 

her  mouth,  and  wetted  it  and  so  clapped  it 

xipon  her  own  by  the  side  of  her  mouth,  I 

guppose  she  feeling  a  pimple  rising  there. 

May  5,  1668. 

'T^O  the  King's  house ;  where  going  in  for 
-■-  Knipp,  the  play  being  done,  I  did  see 
Beck  Marshall  come  dressed  off  the  stage, 
and  look  might}^  fine  and  pretty,  and  noble : 
and  also  Nell  in  her  boy's  clothes,  mighty 
pretty.  But  Lord !  their  confidence,  and 
how  many  men  do  hover  about  them  as  soon 
as  they  come  off  the  stage,  and  how  con- 
fident they  are  in  their  talk !  Here  was 
also  Haynes,    the  incomparable   dancer  of 

the  King's  house. 

AMay  7,  1668. 

*'y^0  the  King's  playhouse,  and  there  saw 
-'-       the  best  part  of  'The  Sea  Voyage,' 
where  Knipp  did  her  part  of  sorrow  very 
well. 

May  16,  1668. 


PLAYS     AND     PLAYERS  73 

'T^O  my  Lord  Bellasses,  at  his  new  house 
-■■       by  my  late  Lord  Treasurer's ;  which 
indeed  is  mighty  noble,  and  good  pictures, 
indeed  not  one  bad  one   in   it.      It  being 
almost  twelve  o'clock,  or  little  more,  to  the 
King's  playhouse,  where  the  doors  were  not 
then  open;   but  presently  they  did  open; 
and  we  in,  and  find  many  people  already 
come   in  by  private  ways  into  the  pit,   it 
being  the  first  day  of  Sir  Charles  Sedley's 
new  play  so  long  expected,    'The  Mulbery 
Garden ' ;  of  whom,  being  so  reputed  a  wit, 
all  the  world  do  expect  great  matters.     I 
having  sat  here  awhile  and  eat  nothing  to- 
day, did  slip  out,  getting  a  boy  to  ke^)  my 
place ;  and  to  the  Rose  Tavern,  and  there 
got  half  a  breast  of  mutton  off  of  the  spit, 
and  dined  all  alone.     And  so  to  the  play 
again  ;  where  the  King  and  Queene  by  and 
by  come,  and  all  the  Court ;  and  the  house 
infinitely  full.     But  the  play,  when  it  come, 
though  there  was  here  and  there  a  pretty 
saying,  and  that  not  very  many  neither,  yet 
the  whole  of  the  play  had  nothing  extra- 
ordinary in  it  aU,   neither  of  language  nor 
design;  insomuch  that  the  King  I  did  not 
see  laugh  nor  pleased  from  the  beginning  to 
the  end,  nor  the  comi^any  ;  insomuch  that  I 
have  not  been  less  pleased  at  a  new  plav  in 
my  life,  I  think. 

May  18,  1668. 


74      LEAVES    FBOM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

'T*0  the  King's  playhouse,  and  there  saw 
-*•  '  Philaster ' ;  where  it  is  pretty  to  see 
hoAV  I  could  remember  almost  all  along, 
ever  since  I  was  a  boy,  Arethusa,  the  part 
which  I  was  to  have  acted  at  Sir  Robert 
Cooke's ;  and  it  was  very  pleasant  to  me, 
but  more  to  think  what  a  ridiculous  thing  it 
would  have  been  for  me  to  have  acted  a 
beautiful  woman. 

May  30,  1668. 

T_T  ERE  comes  Harris,  and  first  told  us 
-*-  -*•  how  Betterton  is  come  again  upon  the 
stage  :  whereupon  my  wife  and  company  to 
the  house  to  see  '  Henry  the  Fifth ' ;  while  I 
to  attend  the  Duke  of  York  at  the  Com- 
mittee of  the  Navy  at  the  Council. 

July  6,  1668. 

'T^O  the  King's  Playhouse  to  see  an  old 
J-  play  of  Shirly's,  ^called  '  Hide  Parke ' ; 
the  first  da}^  acted  ;  where  horses  are  brought 
upon  the  stage  :  but  it  is  but  a  very  moderate 
play,  only  an  excellent  epilogue  spoke  by 
Beck  Marshall. 

July  II,  1668. 

np  O  the  King's  house,  to  see  the  first  day 
-■-  of  Lacy's  'Monsieur  Ragou,'  now  new 
acted.  The  King  and  Court  all  there,  and 
mighty  merry:  a  farce.  The  month  ends 
mighty  sadly  with  me,  my  eyes  being  now 


PLAYS     A  X  D     PLAYERS  75 

past  all  use  almost ;  and  I  am  mighty  hot 
upon  trying  the  late  printed  experiment  of 
paper  tubes. 

July  31,  i663. 

'yO  the  Duke  of  York's  playhouse,   and 
-■■       there  saw  '  The  Guardian ' ;  formerly 
the  same,  I  find,  that  was  called  '  Cutter  of 
Coleman-street ' ;  a  silly  play. 

August  5,  1668. 

A  BROAD  Avith  my  wife,  the  first  time 
-^^-  tliat  ever  I  rode  in  my  own  coach, 
which  do  make  my  heart  rejoice  and  praise 
God,  and  pray  him  to  bless  it  to  me  and 
continue  it.  So  she  and  I  to  the  King's 
playhouse,  and  there  saw  '  The  Usurpei"  : 
a  pretty  good  play  in  all  but  what  is  designed 
to  resemble  Cromwell  and  Hugh  Peters, 
which  is  mighty  silly.  The  plav  done,  we 
to  White  Hall. 

December  2,  1668. 

A  T  noon  home  to  dinner,  and  then  abroad 
-^  ^  again  Avith  my  wife  to  the  Duke  of 
York's  playhouse,  and  saw  'The  Unfor- 
tunate Lovers ' :  a  mean  play  I  think,  but 
some  parts  very  good,  and  excellently  acted. 
AVe  sat  under  the  boxes,  and  saw  the  fine 
ladies ;  among  others,  my  Lady  Kerneguy, 
who  is  most  devilishly  painted.  And  so 
home,  it  being  mighty  pleasure  to  go  alone 
with  my  poor  wife  in  a  coach  of  our  own  to 


76      LEAVES    FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

a  pla}^  and  makes  us  appear  mighty  great, 
I  think,  in  the  world  ;  at  least,  greater  than 
ever  I  could,  or  my  friends  for  me,  have 
once  expected;  or,  I  think,  than  ever  any 
of  my  family  ever  yet  lived  in  my  memory, 
but  my  cosen  Pepys  in  Salisbury  Court, 

Decetnber  3,  1668. 

"j\ /r  Y  wife  and  I  by  Hackney  to  the  King's 
^^^  playhouse,  and  there,  the  pit  being 
full,  sat  in  the  box  above,  and  saw  '  Catiline's 
Conspiracy,'  yesterday  being  the  first  day: 
a  play  of  much  good  sense  and  words  to 
read,  but  that  do  appear  the  worst  upon  the 
stage,  I  mean  the  least  diverting,  that  ever 
I  saw  any,  though  most  fine  in  clothes  ;  and 
a  fine  scene  of  the  Senate  and  of  a  fight  as 
ever  I  saw  in  my  life.  We  sat  next  to  Betty 
Hall,  that  did  belong  to  this  house,  a  mighty 
jjretty  wench. 

December  19,  1668. 

'T^O  the  Duke  of  York's  playhouse,  and 
J-  there  saw  'The  Five  Hours'  Adven- 
ture,' which  hath  not  been  acted  a  good 
while  before,  but  once,  and  is  a  most  ex- 
cellent play  I  must  confess. 

Januaiy  27,  1668-9. 

nnO   dinner  at  noon,    where   I   find  Mr. 

-^       Sheres ;    and    there    made    a    short 

dinner,   and    carried    him  with   us    to  the 

King's  playhouse,    where    'The   Heyresse,' 


PLAYS     AND     PLAYERS  J  J 

notwithstanding  Kinaston's  being  beaten,  is 
acted  :  and  they  say  the  King  is  very  angry 
with  Sir  Charles  Sedley  for  his  being  beaten, 
but  he  do  den\-  it.  But  his  part  is  done  by 
lieeston,  who  is  fain  to  read  it  out  of  a  book 
all  the  while,  and  thereb}-  spoils  the  part, 
and  almost  the  play,  it  being  one  of  the  best 
parts  in  it :  and  though  the  design  is  in  the 
first  conception  of  it  prettj'  good,  j-et  it  is 
but  an  indifferent  plaj' ;  wrote,  the}'  say,  by 
m}-  Lord  Newcastle.  But  it  was  pleasant  to 
see  Beeston  come  in  with  others,  supposing 
it  to  be  dark,  and  yet  he  is  forced  to  read 
his  part  by  the  light  of  the  candles :  and 
this  I  observing  to  a  gentleman  that  sat  by 
me,  he  was  mightily  pleased  therewith,  and 
spread  it  up  and  down.  But  that  that 
pleased  me  most  in  the  play,  is  the  first  song 
that  Knipp  sings  (she  singing  three  or  four) ; 
and  indeed  it  was  very  finely  sung,  so  as  to 
make  the  whole  house  clap  her. 

February  2,  1668-9. 

TO  the  King's  i)layhouse,  and  there  in  an 
upper  box  (where  come  in  Colonell 
Poynton  and  Doll  Stacey,  who  is  very  fine, 
and  by  her  wedditig-ring  I  suppose  he  hath 
married  her  at  last),  did  see  '  The  IVIoor  of 
Venice  ' :  but  ill  acted  in  most  parts,  Moone 
(which  did  a  little  surprize  me)  not  acting 
lago's  part  b}-  much  so  well  as  Clun  used  to 
do :  nor  another  Hart's,  which  was  Cassio's  ; 


78       LEAVES     FROX     PEPYs'     DIARY 

nor  indeed  Burt  doing  the  Moor's  so  well  as 

I  once  thought  he  did. 

February  6,  1668-9. 

TO  the  King's  playhouse,  and  there  saw 
'The  Island  Princesse,'  which  I  like 
mighty  well  as  an  excellent  play  :  and  here 
we  find  Kinaston  to  be  well  enough  to  act 
again;  which  he  do  ver}^  well,  after  his 
beating  bj-  Sir  Charles  Sedley's  appoint- 
ment. 

February  g,  i668-g. 

TO  the  plaisterer's,  and  there  saw  the 
figure  of  my  face  taken  from  the 
mould ;  and  it  is  most  admirablj"  like,  and 
I  will  have  another  made  before  I  take  it 
away.  At  the  'Change  I  did  at  my  book- 
seller's shop  accidentally  fall  into  talk  with 
Sir  Samuel  Tuke  about  trees  and  Mr. 
Evelyn's  garden  ;  and  I  do  find  him,  I  think, 
a  little  conceited,  but  a  man  of  very  fine 
discourse  as  any  I  ever  heard  almost ;  which 
I  was  might}'  glad  of.  In  Suffolk-street 
lives  Moll  Davies  ;  and  we  did  see  her  coach 
come  for  her  to  her  door,  a  mighty  pretty 
fine  coach.  To  "White  Hall ;  and  there,  by 
means  of  Mr.  Cooling,  did  get  into  the  play, 
the  only  one  we  have  seen  this  winter :  it 
was"  '  The  Five  Hours'  Adventure ' :  but  I 
sat  so  far  I  could  not  hear  well,  nor  was 
there  any  pretty  woman  that  I  did  see  but 
my  wife,  who  sat  in  my  Lady  Fox's  pew 


PLAVS     AXD    PLAYERS  79 

witli  her.  The  house  very  full;  and  late 
before  done,  so  that  it  was  past  eleven 
before  we  got  home. 

February  15,  1668-9. 

J  N  the  evening  to  ^Vhite  Hall,  and  there 
^  did  without  much  trouble  get  into  the 
pla^-house,  finding  a  good  place  among  the 
Ladies  of  Honour,  and  all  of  us  sitting  in 
the  pit ;  and  then  by  and  by  came  the  King 
and  Queene,  and  they  began  '  Bartholomew" 
fair.'  But  I  like  no  play  here  so  well  as  at 
the  common  playhouse;  besides  that,  my 
eyes  being  very  ill  since  last  Sunday  and 
this  day  se'nnight,  I  was  in  mighty  jiain  to 
defend  myself  now  from  the  light  of  the 
candles.  After  the  play  done,  we  met  with 
W.  Batelier  and  AV.  Hewer  and  Talbot 
Pepys,  and  they  followed  us  in  a  hackney- 
coach :  and  we  all  stopped  at  Hercules' 
Pillars ;  and  there  I  did  give  them  the  best 
supper  I  could,  and  pretty  merry;  and  so 
home  between  eleven  and  twelve  at  night. 

February  22,  1668-9. 

'T^O  the  Duke  of  York's  house,  and  there 
before  one,  but  the  house  infinite  full ; 
where  by  and  by  the  King  and  Court  come, 
it  being  a  new  2>lay,  or  an  old  one  new 
vamped  by  Shadwell,  called  'The  Royall 
Shepherdesse ' ;  but  the  silliest  for  worrls 
and  design,  and  every  thing,  that  ever  I  saw 
in  my  whole  life,  there  being  nothing  in  the 


8o       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

world  pleasing  in  it  but  a  good  martiall 
dance  of  pikemen,  where  Harris  and  another 
do  handle  their  pikes  in  a  dance  to  admira- 
tion ;  but  never  less  satisfied  with  a  play  in 
my  life. 

February  25,  1668-9. 

'T^O  the  King's  playhouse,  and  saw  'The 
-*-  Faithfull  Shepherdesse.'  But,  Lord  ! 
what  an  empty  house,  there  not  being,  as  I 
could  tell  the  people,  so  manj^  as  to  make 
up  above  £10  in  the  whole  house  !  But  I 
plainly  discern  the  musick  is  the  better,  by 
how  much  the  house  the  emptier. 

February  26,  1668-9. 

TO  the  Duke  of  York's  playhouse,  and 
there  saw  an  old  play,  the  first  time 
acted  these  f ort}^  years,  called  '  The  Lady's 
Tryall,'  acted  only  by  the  young  people  of 
the  house  ;  but  the  house  very  full. 

March  3,  i668-g. 

TO  the  Duke  of  York's  playhouse,  and 
there  saw  'The  Impertinents,'  a  play 
which  pleases  me  well  still ;  but  it  is  with 
great  trouble  that  I  now  see  a  play  because 
of  my  eyes,  the  light  of  the  candles  making 
it  very  troublesome  to  me.     After  the  play 

to  Creed's. 

April  x^,  1669. 


VI 


NELL   GWYXXE 

'Pretty,  witty  Nell."  English  Monsieur. 
Humorous  Lieutenant.  '  A  most  pretty 
woman."  Dryden's  Maiden  Queen.  Euglish 
Princess,  or  Richard  III.  Xell  dances  in 
boy's  clothes.  'Pretty  Nelly.'  Indian  Em- 
Peror.  Flora!  s  Figarys.  'Nell  cursed.' 
The  Surprisal.  Mad  Couple.  IVildgoose 
Chase.  Sir  Robert  Howard.  Duke  of  Lerma. 
Island  Princess.  '  The  jade  Nell  ...  a 
bold,  merry  slut.' 


' )  a  play  at  the  Duke's,  of  my 
Lord  Onery'.s,  called  'Mus- 
tapha,'  which  being  not  good, 
made  Betertou's  jjart  and 
lauthe's  but  ordinary  too.  AH 
the  pleasure  of  the  play  was,  the  King 
and  my  Lady  Castlemaine  were  there ;  and 
pretty  witty  Xell,  at  the  King's  house,  and 
the  younger  Marshall  sat  next  us;  which 
pleased  me  mightily. 

April  2,  1665. 


82   LEAVES  FEOM  PEPYS   DIARY 

TO  the  King's  play -house,  and  there  did 
see  a  good  part  of  'The  English 
Monsieur,'  which  is  a  mighty  pretty  play, 
very  witty  and  pleasant.  And  the  women 
do  very  well ;  but  above  all,  little  Nelly. 

December  B,  1666. 

TO  the  King's  house,  and  there  saw 
'  The  numerous  Lieutenant ' :  a  silly 
play,  I  think ;  only  the  Spirit  in  it  that 
grows  very  tall  and  then  sinks  again  to 
nothing,  having  two  heads  breeding  ujjon 
one,  and  then  Knipp's  singing,  did  please 
us.  Here  in  a  box  above  we  sj^ied  Mrs. 
Pierce ;  and  going  out  they  called  us,  and 
so  we  staid  for  them  ;  and  Knipp  took  us  all 
in,  and  brought  to  us  Nell}-,  a  most  pretty 
woman,  ^who  acted  the  great  part  Coelia 
to-da}^  very  fine,  and  did  it  pretty  well :  I 
kissed  her,  and  so  did  my  wife  ;  and  a 
mighty  pretty-  soul  she  is. 

January  23,  1666-7. 

AFTER  dinner  with  my  wife  to  the 
King's  house  to  see  'The  Mayden 
Queene,'  a  new  play  of  Dryden's,  mightily 
commended  for  the  regularity  of  it,  and  the 
strain  and  wit :  and  the  truth  is,  there  is 
a  comical  part  done  by  Nell,  which  is  Flori- 
mell,  that  I  never  can  hope  ever  to  see  the 
like  done  again  by  m.an  or  woman.  The 
King  and  Duke  of  York  were  at  the  play. 


NELL     O  W  Y  >•  X  E  83 

But  SO  great  performance  of  a  comical  part 
was  never,  I  believe,  in  the  world  before  as 
Xell  do  this,  both  as  a  mad  girle,  then  most 
and  best  of  all  when  she  comes  in  like  a 
young  gallant ;  and  hath  the  motions  and 
carriage  of  a  spark  the  most  that  ever  I  saw 
anj-  man  have.  It  makes  me,  I  confess, 
admu-e  her.  March  2,  1666-7. 

'T^O  Devonshire  House,  to  a  burial  of  a 
-■-  kinsman  of  Sir  R.  Viner's  ;  and  there 
I  received  a  ring.  To  the  Duke's  playhouse, 
and  saw  '  The  English  Princesse,  or  Richard 
the  Third ' ;  a  most  sad,  melancholy  pla}', 
and  pretty  good,  but  nothing  eminent  in  it, 
as  some  tragedys  are  ;  only  little  Miss  Davis 
did  dance  a  jigg  after  the  end  of  the  pla^^ 
and  there  telling  the  next  day's  play,  so 
that  it  eome  in  b}-  force  only  to  please  the 
company  to  see  her  dance  in  boy's  clothes ; 
and  the  truth  is,  there  is  no  comparison 
between  Nell's  dancing  the  other  day  at  the 
King's  house  in  boy's  clothes  and  this,  this 
being  infinitely  beyond  the  other.  This  day 
was  reckoned  by  all  people  the  coldest  day 
that  ever  was  remembered  in  England  ;  and, 
God  knows,  coals  at  a  very  great  price. 

March  7,  1666-7. 

'^^0   the  King's  playhouse;  and  by  and 

■^       by  comes  Mr.  Lowther  and  liis  wife 

and  mine,  and  into  a  box  forsooth,  neither 


84       LEAVES     FflOM     PEPYS       DIARY 

of  them  being-  dressed,  which  I  was  ahuost 
ashamed  of.  Sir  W.  Pen  and  I  in  the  pit, 
and  here  saw  '  The  Mayden  Queene '  again  ; 
which  indeed  the  more  I  see  the  more  I  like, 
and  is  an  excellent  play,  and  so  done  by 
Nell  her  m.erry  i^art,  as  cannot  be  better 

done  in  nature. 

March  25,  1666-7. 

TO  Westminster  ;  in  the  way  meeting 
many  milk-maids  with  their  garlands 
upon  their  pails,  dancing  with  a  fiddler 
before  them  ;  and  saw  pretty  Nelly  standing 
at  her  lodgings'  door  in  Drury-lane  in  her 
smock  sleeves  and  bodice,  looking  upon  one  ; 
she  seemed  a  mighty  pretty  creature. 

May  I,  1667. 

MR.  PIERCE  tells  us  what  troubles  me, 
that  my  Lord  Buckhurst  hath  got  Nell 
awa}'  from  the  King's  house,  and  gives  her 
£100  a-year,  so  as  she  hath  sent  her  parts 
to  the  house,  and  will  act  no  more. 

July  13,  1667. 

TO  Epsum,  by  eight  o'clock,  to  the  well ; 
where  much  company.  And  to  the 
towne  to  the  King's  Head ;  and  hear  that 
my  Lord  Buckhurst  and  Nelly  are  lodged  at 
the  next  house,  and  Sir  Charles  Sedle}"  Avith 
them  :  and  keep  a  merrj-  house.  Poor  girl ! 
I  pity  her ;  but  more  the  loss  of  her  at  the 
King's  house.  July  14,  1667. 


XELL     <;WYXXE  85 

A^ITH  my  Lord  Brouncker  and  his 
*  *  toistress  to  the  King's  plaj-house, 
and  there  saw  '  The  Indian  Emjierour ' : 
where  I  find  Nell  come  again,  which  I  am 
glad  of :  but  was  most  infiniteh-  displeased 
with  her  being  put  to  act  the  Emperour's 
daughter  which  is  a  great  and  serious  jmrt, 
which  she  does  most  basely. 

Atto^ust  22,  1667. 


OIR  \V.  PEN  and  I  had  a  great  deal  of 
^  discourse  with  Mall;  who  tells  us 
that  Xell  is  already  left  by  Lord  Buckhurst, 
and  that  he  makes  sport  of  her,  and  swears 
she  hath  had  all  she  could  get  of  him ;  and 
Hart  her  great  admirer  now  hates  her  ;  and 
that  she  is  very  poor,  and  hath  lost  my  Lady 
Castlemaine,  who  was  her  great  friend  also  : 
but  she  is  come  to  the  playhouse,  but  is 
neglected  by  them  all. 

Au£ust  26,  1667. 

T^O  the  King's  house  ;  and  there  going  in 
-■■  met  with  Knipp,  and  she  took  us  up 
into  the  tireing-rooms  ;  and  to  the  women's 
shift,  where  Nell  was  dressing  herself,  and 
was  all  unready,  and  is  very  pretty,  prettier 
than  I  thought.  And  into  the  scene-room, 
and  there  sat  down,  and  she  gave  us  fruit : 
and  here  I  read  the  questions  to  Knipp, 
while   she   answered   me,    through   all    her 


86       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

part  of  'Flora's  Figarys,'  which  was  acted 

to-daj'.     But,  Lord  !  to  see  how  they  were 

both  painted,  would  make  a  man  mad,  and 

did  make  me   loath  them  ;   and  what  base 

company  of   men  comes  among  them,  and 

how  lewdly  they  talk  !     And  how  poor  the 

men   are   in  clothes,  and  yet  what  a  show 

they  make  on  the  stage  by  candle-light,  is 

very   observable.       But    to   see    how   Nell 

cursed,  for  having  so  few  people  in  the  pit, 

was  strange  ;  the  other  house  carrying  awa}- 

all  the  people  at  the  new  play,  and  is  said 

now-a-days  to  have  generally  most  company, 

as  being   better  players.     By  and  b}^  into 

the  pit,  and  there  saw  the  play,  which  is 

pretty  good. 

October  5,  1667. 


1\ /TRS.  PIERCE  tells  me  that  the  two 
-'-*-'-  Marshalls  at  the  King's  house  are 
Stephen  Marshall's  the  great  Presbyterian's 
daughters :  and  that  Nelly  and  Beck  Marshall 
falling  out  the  other  day,  the  latter  called 
the  other  my  Lord  Buckhurst's  mistress. 
Nell  answered  her,  'I  was  but  one  man's 
mistress,  though  I  was  brought  up  in  a 
brothel  to  fill  strong  water  to  the  gentleman ; 
and  you  are  a  mistress  to  three  or  four, 
though  a  Presbyter's  praying  daughter  ! ' 

October  26,  1667. 


NELL     (i  WYNNE  87 

\\T  ITH  my  wife  to  the  King's  playhouse, 
*  ^  and  there  saw  '  The  Surprizall ' ; 
which  did  not  jjlease  me  to-day,  the  actors 
not  pleasing  me  ;  and  especially  Nell's  acting 
of  a  serious  part,  which  she  spoils. 

December  26,  1667. 

'T^O  the  King's  house,  and  there  saw 
-*-  '  The  Mad  Couple ' ;  which  is  but  an 
ordinary  play;  but  only  Nell's  and  Hart's 
mad  parts  are  most  excellent  done,  but 
esjiecially  her's  :  which  makes  it  a  miracle 
to  me  to  think  how  ill  she  do  any  serious 
part,  as  the  other  day,  just  like  a  fool  or 
changeling ;  and,  in  a  mad  part,  do  beyond 
all  imitation  almost.  It  pleased  us  mightily 
to  see  the  natural  affection  of  a  poor  woman, 
the  mother  of  one  of  the  children  brought 
on  the  stage  :  the  child  crying,  she  by  force 
got  upon  the  stage,  and  took  up  her  child 
and  carried  it  away  off  of  the  stage  from 
Hart. 

December  28,  1667. 

\Sce  (dm  '  Plays  and  Players.'] 


VII 


MUSIC 


The  Blind  Beggar.  The  'Arched  Viall." 
The  Nature  of  Sounds.  M.  Grebus,  Master 
of  the  King's  ^Nlusic.  Organ  at  Westminster. 
*  A  Recorder.'  An  Italian  Company  before 
Royalty. 


3   Sir  "VV.  Rider's   to  dinner. 

A  fine  merry  walk  with  the 

ladies  alone  after  dinner  in 

the    garden  :     the    greatest 

quantity    of    straAvberrys    I 

ever  saw,    and  good.     This 

very  house  was  built  by  the  blind  beggar  of 

Bednall  Green,  so  much  talked  of  and  sang 

in  ballads  ;  but  they  say  it  was  only  some 

of  the  outhouses  of  it. 

June  26,  1663. 
08 


MUSI  C  89 

n^O  the  Musique-meeting  at  the  Post- 
-*■  office,  where  I  was  ouce  before.  And 
thither  anon  come  all  the  Gresham  College, 
and  a  great  deal  of  noble  company  :  and  the 
new  instrument  was  brought  called  the 
Arched  Viall,  where  being  tuned  with  lute- 
strings, and  plaj-ed  on  with  kees  like  an 
organ,  a  piece  of  parchment  is  alwavs  kept 
moving;  and  the  strings,  which  by  the  kees 
are  pressed  down  upon  it,  are  grated  in 
imitation  of  a  bow,  by  the  parchment ;  and 
so  it  is  intended  to  resemble  several  vyalls 
played  on  with  one  bow,  but  so  baselj- and 
so  harshly,  that  it  will  never  do.  But  after 
three  hours'  stay  it  could  not  be  fixed  in 
tune  :  and  so  they  were  fain  to  go  to  some 
other  musique  of  instruments. 

October  5,  1664. 

"QISCOURSED  with  Mr.  Hooke  about 
the  nature  of  sounds,  and  he  did 
make  me  understand  the  nature  of  musicall 
sounds  made  by  strings,  mighty  prettily; 
and  told  me  that  having  come  to  a  certain 
number  of  vibrations  proper  to  make  any 
tone,  he  is  able  to  tell  how  manv  strokes 
a  fly  makes  with  her  wings  (those  flies  that 
hum  in  their  flying)  by  the  note  that  it 
answers  to  in  musique,  during  their  flying. 
That,  I  suppose,  is  a  little  too  much  refined  ; 
but  his  discourse  in  general  of  sound  was' 
mighty  fine.  August  Z,  ^^66. 


90       LEAVES    FROM    PEPYs'     DIARY 

'T^  0  the  Duke's  house  to  a  play.     It  was 
-■-       indifferently  clone.     Gosnell  not  sing- 
ing, but  a  new  wench  that  sings  naughtily. 

December  26,  1666. 

"1 1  riTH  my  Lord  Brouncker  b}"  coach  to 
»  '  his  house,  there  to  hear  some  Italian 
musique :  and  here  we  met  Tom  Killigrew, 
Sir  Robert  Murraj',  and  the  Italian  Signor 
Baptista,  who  hath  proposed  a  play  in 
Italian  for  the  Opera,  which  T.  Killigrew  do 
intend  to  have  up ;  and  here  he  did  sing 
one  of  the  acts.  He  himself  is  the  poet  as 
well  as  the  musician  ;  which  is  very  much, 
and  did  sing  the  whole  from  the  words 
without  an}"  musique  prickt,  and  played  all 
along  upon  a  harpsicon  most  admirably, 
and  the  composition  most  excellent.  The 
words  I  did  not  understand,  and  so  know 
not  how  they  are  fitted,  but  believe  very 
well,  and  all  in  the  recitativo  very  fine.  But 
I  jjerceive  there  is  a  proper  accent  in  every 
countrj-'s  discourse,  and  that  do  reach  in 
their  setting  of  notes  to  words,  which,  there- 
fore, cannot  be  natural  to  any  body  else  but 
them  ;  so  that  I  am  not  so  much  smitten 
with  it  as  it  may  be  I  should  be  if  I  were 
acquainted  with  their  accent.  But  the  whole 
comiDOsition  is  certainly  most  excellent ;  and 
the  poetr\-,  T.  Killigrew  and  Sir  R,  Murray, 
who  understood  the  words,  did  say  most 
excellent.     I  confess  I  was  mightily  pleased 


MUSIC  91 

with  the  musique.  He  pretends  not  to  voice, 
though  it  be  good,  but  not  excellent.  This 
done,  T.  Killigrew  and  I  to  talk:  and  he 
tells  me  how  the  audience  at  his  house  is 
not  above  half  so  much  as  it  used  to  be  before 
the  late  fire.  That  Knipp  is  like  to  make 
the  best  actor  that  ever  come  upon  the  stage, 
she  understanding  so  well:  that  they  are 
going  to  give  her  £30  a-3-ear  more.  That 
the  stage  is  now  by  his  pains  a  thousand 
times  better  and  more  glorious  than  ever 
heretofore.  Now  wax-candles,  and  many  of 
them  ;  then  not  above  3  lbs.  of  tallow  :  now 
all  things  civil,  no  rudeness  any  where; 
then,  as  in  a  bear-garden  :  then  two  or  three 
fiddlers,  now  nine  or  ten  of  the  best :  then 
nothing  but  rushes  upon  the  ground,  and 
every  thing  else  mean  ;  now  all  otherwise  : 
then  the  Queene  seldom  and  the  King  never 
would  come;  now,  not  the  King  only  for 
state,  but  all  civil  people  do  think  they  may 
come  as  well  as  any.  He  tells  me  that  he 
liath  gone  several  times  (eight  or  ten  times, 
he  tells  me)  hence  to  Rome,  to  hear  good 
musique  ;  so  much  he  loves  it,  though  he 
never  did  sing  or  play  a  note.  That  he  hath 
ever  endeavoured  in  the  late  King's  time 
and  in  this  to  introduce  good  musique,  but 
he  never  could  do  it,  there  never  having  been 
any  musique  here  better  than  ballads.  And 
says  'Hermitt  poore '  and  'Chiny  Chese' 
was  all  the  musique  we  had;   and  yet  no 


92   LEAVES  FROM  PEPYS   DIARY 

ordinarj'  fiddlers  get  so  much  money  as  ours 
do  here,  which   speaks  our  rudeness   still. 
That  he  hath  gathered  our  Italians  from 
several  Courts  in  Christendome,  to  come  to 
make  a  concert  for  the  King,  which  he  do 
give  £200  a-jear  a-piqce  to ;  but  badlv  paid, 
and  do  come  in  the  room  of   keeping  four 
ridiculous  Gundilows,  he  having  got  the  King 
to  put  them  awaj^  and  lay  out  money  this 
way.     And  indeed  I  do  commend  him  for  it ; 
for  I  think  it  is  a  very  noble  undertaking. 
He  do  intend  to  have  some  times  of  the  year 
these  operas  to   be  performed  at   the   two 
present  theatres,  since  he  is  defeated  in  what 
he  intended  in  Moorefields  on  purpose  for  it. 
And    he    tells    me    plainly   that    the   City 
audience  was  as  good  as  the  Court ;  but  now 
they  are  most  gone,  Baptista  tells  me'  that 
Giacomo  Charissimi  is  still   alive  at  Rome, 
who  was  master  to  Yinuecotio,  Avho  is  one 
of  the  Italians  that  the  King  hath  here,  and 
the   chief    composer    of    them.      Mj'  great 
wonder  is,    liow   this  man    do   to  keep  in 
memory   so   perfectly   the  musique   of  the 
whole    act,    both    for    the    voice    and    the 
instrument  too.     I  confess  I  do  admire  it: 
but  in  recitative  the  sense  much  helps  him, 
for  there  is  but  one  proper  way  of  discoursing 
and  giving  the  accents.      Having  done  our 
discourse,   we  all  took  coaches  (my  Lord's 
and  T.   Killigrew's)   and   to    Mrs.    Knipp's 
chamber,  where  this  Italian  is  to  teach  her 


>i  u  s  I  c  93 

to  sing  her  part.  And  so  we  all  thither, 
and  there  she  did  sing  an  Italian  song  or 
two  very  fine,  while  he  pla\-ed  the  bass  npon 
a  harpsicon  there ;  and  exceedinglj^  taken  I 
am  with  her  singing,  and  believe  she  will  do 
miracles  at  that  and  acting. 

Febrtiary  12,  1666-7. 

n^O  AVhite  Hall ;  and  there  in  the  Boarded 
-■-  Galler}-  did  hear  the  musick  with 
which  the  King  is  presented  this  night  by 
^Monsieur  Grebus,  the  Master  of  his  Musick  : 
both  instrumental  (I  think  twenty -four  vio- 
lins) and  vocall:  an  English  song  upon 
Peace.  But,  God  forgive  me  !  I  never  was 
so  little  pleased  with  a  concert  of  music  in 
my  life.  The  manner  of  setting  of  words 
and  repeating  them  out  of  order,  and  that 
with  a  number  of  voices,  makes  me  sick,  the 
whole  design  of  vocall  musick  being  lost  by 
it.  Here  was  a  great  press  of  people  ;  but  I 
did  not  see  many  pleased  with  it,  only  the 
instrumental  musick  he  had  brought  by 
practice  to  i)lay  very  just. 

October  i,  1667. 

T^O  White  Hall;  and  there  got  into  the 
-*-  theatre  room,  and  there  heard  botli  the 
vocaH  and  iustrumentall  musick.  Here  was 
the  King  and  (^)ueene,  and  some  of  the  ladies; 
among  whom  none  more  jolly  than  my  Lady 


94      LEAVES     FROar     PEPYs'     DIARY 

Buckingham,  her  Lord  being  once  more  a 
great  man. 

November  16,  1667. 

lyr  EETING  Dr.  Gibbons,  he  and  I  to  see 
-'-'-*-  an  organ  at  the  Dean  of  Westminster's 
lodgings  at  the  Abby,  the  Bishop  of  Roches- 
ter's ;  where  he  lives  like  a  great  prelate,  his 
lodgings  being  verj-  good  ;  though  at  present 
under  great  disgrace  at  Court,  being  put  by 
his  Clerk  of  the  Closet's  place.  I  saw  his 
lady,  of  whom  the  Tcrrce.  Filius  of  Oxford 
was  once  so  merry  ;  and  two  children,  where- 
of one  a  very  pretty  little  boy,  like  him,  so 
fat  and  black.  Here  I  saw  the  organ ;  but 
it  is  too  big  for  my  house,  and  the  fashion 
do  not  please  me  enough ;  and  therefore  I 
will  not  have  it.  To  the  Nursery,  where 
none  of  us  ever  were  before ;  where  the 
house  is  better  and  the  musique  better  than 
we  looked  for,  and  the  acting  not  much 
worse,  because  I  expected  as  bad  as  could 
be:  and  I  was  not  much  mistaken,  for  it 
was  so. 

February  24,  1667-8. 

'T^O  Drumbleby's,  and  there  did  talk  a 
•^  great  deal  about  pipes ;  and  did  buy 
a  recorder,  which  I  do  intend  to  learn  to  play 
on,  the  sound  of  it  being,  of  all  sounds  in 
the  world,  most  pleasing  to  me. 

April  8,  1668. 


MUSIC 


95 


CO  I  to  White  Hall,  and  there  all  the 
»^  evening  on  the  Queene's  side  ;  and  it 
being  a  most  summer-like  day,  and  a  fine 
warm  evening,  the  Italians  came  in  a  barge 
under  the  leads  before  the  Queene's  drawing- 
room  ;  and  so  the  Queene  and  ladies  went 
out  and  heard  them  for  almost  an  hour : 
and  the  singing  was  indeed  very  good 
together ;  but  yet  there  was  but  one  voice 
tliat  alone  did  appear  considerable,  and  that 

was  Signior  Joanni. 

September  28,  i663. 

l^See  also  '  The  Clergy  and  Religious 

"Worship,'] 


VIII 


BOOKS  AND  BOOKSELLERS 


Buxtorfs  Hebrezv  Grajiimar.  Hooker's 
Ecclesiastical  Polity.  Selden.  Grotius. 
Butler's  Hudibras.  Dugdale's  History  of 
Pauls.  ?>X.o\\s  London.  Gesner.  History  of 
Trent.  Shakespeare.  Jonson.  Beaumont. 
Fuller's  Worthies.  Cabbala.  Delices  de 
Hollande.  Rushworth.  Iter Boreale.  Evelyn. 
Dryden.  Nostradamus.  Booker's  Alma- 
nack. Pepys'  Catalogue.  Book  -  plates. 
Hobbs's  Leviathan.  Nott,  bookbinder.  Life 
of  Julius  C(esar.     Des  Cartes'  Music. 


out  this  afternoon 


95 


CALLED  at  Paul's  Churchyard, 
where  I  bought  Buxtorfs  He- 
brew  Grammar;  and  read  a 
declaration  of  the  gentlemen 
of    Northampton   which    came 


'January  25,  1659-60. 


BOOKS     AXD     BOOKSELLERS  97 

MR.  CHETAVIND  fell  commending  of 
Hooker's  Ecclesiastical  Polity,  as  the 
best  book,  and  the  onl}"  one  that  made  him 
a  Christian,  which  puts  me  upon  the  buying 

of  it,  wliich  I  will  do  shortly. 

June  29,  1661. 

'T^O  White  Hall,  and  there  hear  that  my 
^  Lord  General  Monk  continues  very 
ill ;  and  then  to  walk  in  St.  James's  Park, 
and  saw  a  great  variety  of  fowle  which  I 
never  saw  before.  At  night  fell  to  read  in 
Hooker's  Ecclesiastical  Politii,  which  Mr. 
]\Ioore  did  give  me  last  "Wednesday'  very 
handsomely  bound ;  and  which  I  shall  read 
with  great  pains  and  love  for  his  sake. 

Ajigtist  iS,  1661. 

I  AM  now  full  of  study  about  writing 
something  about  our  making  of  strangers 
strike  to  us  at  sea  ;  and  so  am  altogether 
reading  Selden  and  Grotius,  and  such  other 

authors  to  that  purjjose. 

December  15,  1661, 

P  early ;   and  after  reading  a  little  in 

icero,  to  my  office. 

June  18,  1662. 


U''c 


TO  the  "Wardrobe.  Hither  come  Mr. 
Battersby  ;  and  we  falling  into  dis- 
30urse  of  a  new  book  of  drollery  in  use, 
»lled  Hudehras,  I  would  needs  go  find  it 


, 


98       L  E  A  \-  E  S     FROM     P  E  P  Y  S  '     DIARY 

out,  and  met  with  it  at  the  Temple  :  cost  me 
2s.  6d.  But  when  I  come  to  read  it,  it  is  so 
silly  an  abvise  of  the  Presbyter  Knight  going 
to  the  warrs,  that  I  am  ashamed  of  it ;  and 
b}'  and  by  meeting  at  Mr.  Townsend's  at 
dinner,  I  sold  it  to  him  for  18d. 

December  26,  1662. 

AND  so  to  a  bookseller's  in  the  Strand,  and 
there  bought  Hudibras  again,  it  being 
certainly  some  ill  humour  to  be  so  against 
that  which  all  the  world  cries  up  to  be  the 
example  of  wit ;  for  which  I  am  resolved 
once  more  to  read  him,  and  see  whether  I 

can  find  it  or  no. 

Fch7-uary  6,  1662-3. 

TO  church,  and  so  home  to  my  wife  ;  and 
with  her  read  Iter  Boreale,  a  poem 
made  first  at  the  King's  coming  home  ;  but  I 
never  read  it  before,  and  now  like  it  pretty 
well,  but  not  so  as  it  was  cried  up. 

August  23,  1663. 

TO  Paul's  Church  Yard,  and  there  looked 
upon  the  second  part  of  Hudibras, 
which  I  buy  not,  but  borrow  to  read,  to  see 
if  it  be  as  good  as  the  first,  which  the  world 
cried  so  mightily  iip,  though  it  hath  not  a 
good  liking  in  me,  tliough  I  had  tried  but 
twice  or  three  times  reading  to  bring  mj'self 

to  think  it  witty. 

November  28,  1663. 


BOOKS    AXD     BOOKSELLERS 


99 


'T'O  St.  Paul's  Church  Yard,  to  my  book- 
■^       seller's,  and  could  not  tell  whether  to 

lay  out  my  money  for  books  of  pleasure,  as 
plays,  which  my  nature  was  most  earnest  in  ; 
but  at  last,  after  seeing  Chaucer,  Dugdale's 
History  of  PauVs,  Stow's  London,  Gesner, 
History    of    Trent,     besides    Shakespeare' 
Jonson,    and    Beaumont's   plays,    I  at  last 
chose  Dr.  Fuller's   Worthys,  the  Cahhala  or 
Collections  of  Letters  of  State,  and  a  little 
book,    Delices   de    Hollande,    with    another 
little  book  or  two,  all  of  good  use  or  serious 
pleasure;    and   Hudihras,    both    jmrts,    the 
book  now  in  greatest  fashion  for  drollery, 
though  I  cannot,  I  confess,  see  enough  where 
the  wit  lies.     My  mind  being  thus  settled 
I  went  by  link  home,  and  so  to  my  office' 
and  to  read  in  Rushworth  ;  and  so  home  to 

supper  and  to  bed.  Deconl^er  lo,  1663. 

"n  BAD  a  book  of  Mr.  Evelyn's  translating 
and  sending  me  as  a  present,  about 
directions  for  gathering  a  Library  ;  but  the 
book  is  above  my  reach,  but  his  epistle  to 
my  Lord  Chancellor  is  a  very  fine  piece. 

October^,  1665. 

J    AM  very  well  pleased   this  night  with 

reading  a  poem  I  brought  home  with 

me  last  night  from   AVestminster  Hall,  of 

Dryden's,  upon  the  present  war ;  a  very  good 

P°^"^-  February  2,  i666°7. 


lOO      LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

TO  Sir  G.  Carteret's  to  dinner  .  .  .  where 
very  good  company.  Among  other 
discourse,  we  talked  much  of  Nostradamus, 
his  prophecy  of  these  times,  and  the  burning 
of  the  City  of  London,  some  of  whose  verses 
are  put  into  Boolccrs  Almanack. 

F^eln-tiary  3,  1666-7. 

HOME,  and  to  my  chamber,  and  there 
finished  my  Catalogue  of  my  books 

with  my  own  hand. 

February  4,  1666-7. 


T' 


*  O  my  bookseller,  INIartin,  and  there  did 
receive  my  book  I  expected  of  China, 
a  most  excellent  book  with  rare  cuts;  and 
there  fell  into  discourse  with  him  about  the 
burning  of  Paul's  when  the  City  was  burned, 
his  house  being  in  the  church-yaj-d.  And  he 
tells  me  that  it  took  fire  first  upon  the  end 
of  a  board  that  among  others  was  laid  upon 
the  roof  instead  of  lead,  the  lead  being 
broke  off,  and  thence  down  lower  and  lower  : 
but  that  the  burning  of  the  goods  under 
St.  Fayth's  arose  from  the  goods  taking  fire 
in  the  church -yard,  and  so  got  into  St. 
Fayth's  church  ;  and  that  they  first  took  fire 
from  the  Draper's  side,  by  some  timber  of 
the  houses  that  were  burned  falling  into  the 
church.  He  says  that  one  warehouse  of 
books  was  saved  under  Taul's  ;  and  there 
were  several  dogs  found  burned  among  the 


BOOKS     AXD     BOOKSELLERS         lOl 

goods  in  the  church-yard,  and  but  one  man, 
which  was  an  old  man,  that  said  he  would 
go  and  save  a  blanket  which  he  had  in  the 
church,  and  being  weak  the  fire  overcame 
him.     He  says  that  most  of  the  booksellers 
do  design  to  fall  a-building  again  the  next 
year ;  but  that  the  Bishop  of  London  do  use 
them  most  basely,  worse  than  any  other  land- 
lords, and  says  he  will  be  paid  to  this  day  the 
rent,  or  else  he  will  not  come  to  treat  with 
them  for  the  time  to  come  ;  and  will  not,  on 
that  condition  either,  promise  them  in  any 
thing  how  he  will  use  them  ;  and  the  Parlia- 
ment sitting,   he  claims  his  privilege,  and 
will  not  be  cited  before   the    Lord    Chief 
Justice,  as  others  are  there  to  be  forced  to  a. 
fair  dealing. 

January  14,  1667-S. 

"\1^ENT  to  my  plate-maker's,  and  there 
spent  an  hour  about  contriving  my 
little  plates  for  my  books  of  the  King's  four 
Yards. 

July  21,  i663. 

n^  O  my  bookseller's  for  Hobbs's  Leviathan, 
-*-  which  is  now  mightily  called  for :  and 
what  was  heretofore  sold  for  8s.  I  now  give 
24s.  at  the  second  hand,  and  is  sold  for  30s., 
it  being  a  book  the  Bishops  will  not  let  be 
printed  again. 

September  3,  1668, 

SANTA  BAxw_.Ax:A  COLLL^..  ^.^xiAlH 


102      LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

CHRISTMAS  day.  To  dinner  alone  with 
my  Avife,  who,  poor  wretch  !  sat  un- 
dressed all  day  till  ten  at  night,  altering 
and  lacing  of  a  noble  petticoat ;  while  I  by 
her  making  the  bo}'  read  to  me  the  Life 
of  Julius  Ccesar,  and  Des  Cartes'  Book  of 

Musick. 

DeceJtiber  25,  1668. 

W  HEWER  carried  me  to  Notts,  the 
•  famous  bookbinder  that  bound  for 
my  Lord  Chancellor's  library :  and  here  I 
did  take  occasion  for  curiosity  to  bespeak  a 
book  to  be  bound,  only  that  I  might  have 

one  of  his  binding. 

March  12,  1668-9. 


IX 

THE  CLEKGY  AXD  RELIGIOUS 
AVORSHIP 


Clergy  and  their  Lands.  Calamy.  Drunken- 
ness. '  A  poor,  dry  sermon. '  'An  indifferent 
sermon,'  Conduct  in  Church.  Bp.  Hackett. 
'  Brave  musique.'  The  King  and  the  Lord  s 
Supper.  Presbyterian  Ministers.  Conduct 
of  the  Clergy.  A  Bishop's  '  poor  sermon.' 
Poverty  of  Clergymen.  Captain  Cooke  and 
his  Singing  Boys.  St.  George's  Chapel  at 
Windsor.  The  King  and  the  Clergj-.  A 
'dull,  old-fashioned  '  Anthem. 


>T  Court  I  find  that  all  things 
grow  high.  The  old  clergy 
talk  as  being  sure  of  their 
lands  again,  and  laugh  at  the 
Presbytery;  and  it  is  believed 
that  the  sales  of  the  King's  and  the  Bishops' 
lands  will  never  be  confirmed  by  Parliament, 
there  being  nothing  now  in  any  man's  power 
to  hinder  them  and   the  King  from   doino- 

103  ° 


I04      LEAVES    FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

wliat  they  had  a  mind,  but  everybody  will- 
ing to  submit  to  any  thing. 

May  21,  1660. 

n^O  my  Lord,  and  with  him  to  "White 
-*-  Hall  Chapel,  where  Mr.  Calamj' 
preached,  and  made  a  good  sermon  upon 
these  words,  'To  whom  much  is  given,  of 
him  much  is  required.'  He  was  very  officious 
with  his  three  reverences  to  the  King,  as 
others  do.  After  sermon  a  brave  anthem  of 
Captain  Cooke's,  which  he  himself  sung,  and 
**««.  IJang  was  well  pleased  with  it.  My  Lord 
^^r  ■  "^^ambeiliii's. 

dmedatmyLoru.^  •    -•.<  la.  j^gQ, 

Aug.,. 

1MET  Mr.  Crewe  and  dined  with  him, 
where  there  dined  one  Mr.  Hickeman, 
an  Oxford  man,  who  spoke  very  much 
against  the  height  of  the  now  old  clergy,  for 
putting  out  many  of  the  religious  fellows 
of  Colleges,  and  inveighing  against  them  for 

their  being  drunk. 

August  21,  1660. 

I  HEARD  Dr.  Spurstow  preach  before  the 
King  a  poor  dry  sermon ;  but  a  very 
good  anthem  of  Captn.  Cooke's  afterwards. 

October  7,  1660. 

TO  White  Hall  chappell,  where  one  Dr. 
Crofts   made  an  indifferent  sermon, 
and    after    it   an   anthem,  ill  sung,    which 


C  L  E  E  O  V     A  X  D     "WORSHIP  I05 

made  the  King  laiigh.  Here  I  first  did  see- 
the Princesse  Royall  since  she  came  into 
England.  Here  I  also  observed,  how  the- 
Duke  of  York  and  Mrs.  Palmer  did  talk  to 
one  another  very  wantonly  through  the 
hangings  that  parts  the  King's  closet  and  the 
closet  where  the  ladies  sit. 

October  14,  1660. 

T)  Y  water  to  AVhite  Hall,  and   there  to 
^-^     chapel  in  my  pew  belonging  to  me  as 
Gierke  of  the  Privy  Seale ;  and  there  I  heard 
a  most  excellent  sermon    of    Dr.    Hacket, 
Bishop    of    Lichfield    and    Coventry,    \v^\\ 
these  words  :   '  He  that  drinketh  this  water 
shall  never  thirst.'     AVe  had  an  excellent 
ftutjiem,  m\\%  by  Captn.  Cooke  and  another,. 
Hravc  mu«ique.      And  then  the  King, 
anti  -,^  offered,  and  took  the  sacra- 

come  down  ai.  .  ,  ,  ,, 

,  .     ,  ■    a   sight  verv   well 

ment   upon  his  knees ;  ,      ,        ,•       . 

n        •  Kt^      T  ^  "  chapol  ag9jn ;; 

worth  seeing.    After  dinner  to         \.,  Z 

and   there    had    another    good    an..     ^ 
Captn.  Cooke's. 

May  18,  1662  (Whit  Sunday). 

IAVENT  to  Paul's  Church  Yard  to  my 
bookseller's  ;  and  there  I  hear  that  next 
Sunday  will  be  the  last  of  a  great  many 
Presbyterian  ministers  in  towne,  who,  I 
hear,  will  give  up  all.  I  pray  God  the  issue- 
may  be  good,  for  the  discontent  is  great.  My 
mind  well  pleased  with  a  letter  that  I  found 
at  home  from  Mr.  Coventry,  expressing  his 


I06      LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

satisfaction  in  a  letter  I  writ  last  night,  and 
sent  him  this  morning,  to  be  corrected  bj- 
him  in  order  to  its  sending  doAvn  to  all  the 
Yards  as  a  charge  to  them. 

August  15,  1662. 

^HIS  being  the  last  Sunday  that  the 
-*-  Presbyterians  are  to  preach,  unless 
they  read  the  new  Common  Prayer  and 
renounce  the  Covenant,  I  had  a  mind  to 
hear  Dr.  Bates's  farewell  sermon;  and 
walked  to  St.  Dmistan's,  where,  it  not  being 
seven  o'clock  yet,  the  doors  were  not 
open;  and  so  I  walked  an  hour  in  the 
Temple-garden.  At  eight  o'clock  I  went, 
and  crowded  in  at  a  back  door  among  others, 
the  church  being  half -full  almost  before  any 
doors  were  open  publicly  ;  and  so  got  into 
the  gallery,  beside  the  pulpit,  and  heard  very 
well.      His    text    was,     'Now    the   God  of 

Peace ' ;  the  last  Hebrews,  and  the  20th 

verse  :  he  making  a  very  good  sermon,  and 
very  little  reflections  in  it  to  any  thing  of 
the  times. 

August  17,  1662. 

'T^O  the  French  Church  at  the  Savoy,  and 
^  there  they  have  the  Common  Prayer 
Book  read  in  French,  and,  which  I  never 
saw  before,  the  minister  do  preach  with  his 
hat  off,  I  suppose  in  further  conformity  with 
our  Church. 

September  28,  1662. 


CLERGY     AND     WORSHIP  lOJ 

"pi^'BLICK  matters  in  an  ill  condition  of 
-'-  discontent  against  the  height  and 
vanit}'  of  the  Court,  and  their  bad  pay- 
ments :  but  that  which  troubles  most,  is  the 
Clergy,  which  will  never  content  the  City, 
which  is  not  to  be  reconciled  to  Bishopps  : 
but  more  the  pity  that  differences  must 
still  be. 

November  30,  1662. 

T)Y  and  by  down  to  the  chapel  again, 
-L*  where  Bis^hop  jNIorley  preached  upon 
the  song  of  the  Angels,  'Glory  to  God 
on  high,  on  earth  peace,  and  good  will 
towards  men.'  Methought  he  made  but  a 
poor  sermon,  l)ut  long,  and  reprehending  the 
common  jollity  of  the  Court  for  the  true  joy 
that  shall  and  ought  to  be  on  these  da3-s. 
Particularized  concerning  their  excess  in 
playes  and  gaming,  saying  that  he  whose 
office  it  is  to  keep  the  gamesters  in  order  and 
within  bounds,  serves  but  for  a  second  rather 
in  a  duell,  meaning  the  groome-porter. 
Upon  which  it  was  worth  observing  how  far 
the\-  are  come  from  taking  the  reprehensions 
of  a  bishop  seriously,  that  they  all  laugh  in 
the  chapel  when  he  reflected  on  their  ill 
actions  and  courses.  He  did  much  press  us 
to  joy  in  these  publick  days  of  joy,  and  to 
hospitality.  But  one  that  stood  by  whispered 
in  my  eare  that  tlie  ]iishop  do  not  spend  one 
groate  to  the  poor  himself.      The  sermon 


I08       LEAVES     FRO  51     PEPYs'     DIARY 

clone,  a  good  anthem  followed  with  vialls, 
and  the  King  came  down  to  receive  the 
Sacrament.  Christmas  Day,  1662. 

lyr  R.  BLACKBUENE  and  I  fell  to  talk 
^^ ^     of  many  things,  wherein  he  was  very 
open   to  me:    first,  in  that  of  religion,   he 
makes  it  greater  matter  of  prudence  for  the 
King  and  Council  to  suffer  liberty  of  con- 
science  ;  and  imputes  the  loss  of  Himgary  to 
the  Turke  from  the  Emperor's  denying  them 
this  liberty  of  their  religion.     He  says  that 
many  pious  ministers  of  the  word  of  God, 
some  thousands  of  them,  do  now  beg  their 
bread :  and  told  me  how  highly  the  present 
clergy  carry   themselves  every  where  so  as 
that  they  are  hated  and  laughed  at  by  every 
body ;  among  other  things,  for  their  excom- 
munications, which  they  send  upon  the  least 
occasions  almost  that  can  be.      And  I  am 
convinced  in  my  judgement,  not  only  from 
his  discourse,   but  my  thoughts  in  general, 
that  the  present  clergy  will  never  heartily 
go  down  with  the  generality  of  the  commons 
of  England .;    they   have   been   so    used    to 
liberty    and    freedom,    and    they    are    so 
acquainted  with  the  pride  and  debauchery 
of  the    present    clergy.      He   did   give  me 
many  stories  of  the  affronts  which  the  plerffy 
receive  in  all  places  of   England  from  the 
gentry  and  ordinary  persons  of  the  parish.^ 
He  do   tell   me   what    the   City   thlnksj   of 


CLERGY     AND     WORSHIP  IO9 

General  Monk,  as  of  a  most  perfidious  man 
that   hath   betra\-ed    ever}-    body,    and    the 
King  also  ;  who,  as  he  thinks,  and  his  party, 
and  so  I  have  heard  other  good  friends  of 
the  King  say,  it  might  have  been  better  for 
the  King  to  have  had  his  hands   a  little 
bound   for   the   jjresent,   than   be  forced   to 
bring  such  a  crew  of  poor  people  about  him, 
and  be  liable  to  satisfy  the  demands  of  every 
one  of  them.     He  told  me  that  to  his  know- 
ledge (being  present  at  every  meeting  at  the 
Treaty  at  the  Isle  of  Wight),  that  the  old 
King  did  confess  himself  over-ruled  and  con- 
vinced in  his  judgement  against  the  Bishoi^iis, 
and  would  have  suffered  and  did  agree  to 
exclude  the  service  out  of  the  churches,  nay, 
his  own  chapell ;  and  that  he  did  always  saj^ 
that  this  he  did  not  by  force,  for  that  he 
would  never  abate  one  inch  bj^any  vyolence; 
but  what  he  did  was  out  of  his  reason  and 
judgement.     He  tells  me  that  the  King  by 
name,  with  all  his  dignities,  is  prajed  for 
by    them    that    they    call    Fanatiques,    as 
heartily  and  powerfully  as  in  any  of  the 
other  churches  that  are  thought  better  :  and 
that,  let  the  King  think  what  he  will,  it  is 
them  that  must  helj)  him  in  the  day  of  warr. 

Novevtber  9,  1663. 

A  T  chapel  I  had  room  in  the  Privy  Scale 
-^~^  pew  with  other  gentlemen,  and  there 
heard  Dr.   Killigrew  preach.     The  anthem 


no       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

was  good  after  sermon,  being  the  fifty-first 
psalme,  made  for  five  voices  by  one  of  Captn. 
Cooke's  boys,  a  pretty  boy.  'And  they  say 
there  are  four  or  five  of  them  that  can 
do  as  much.  And  here  I  first  perceived  that 
the  King  is  a  little  musicall,  and  kept  good 
time  with  his  hand  all  along  the  anthem. 

November  22,  1663. 

q^  HENCE  to  Lord  Sandwich's,  where  I  find 
J-  him  within  with  Captain  Cooke  and  his 
boys,  Dr.  Childe,  Mr.  Madge,  and  Mallard, 
playing  and  singing  over  my  Lord's  anthem 
which  he  hath  made  to  sing  in  the  King's 
Chapel:  my  Lord  took  me  into  the  with- 
drawing room  to  hear  it,  and  indeed  it 
sounds  very  pretty,  and  is  a  good  thing,  I 
believe  to  be  made  by  him,  and  they  all 
commend  it. 

December  IT.,  1663. 

/^ALLED  up  about  five  in  the  morning, 
^^  and  my  Lord  up,  and  took  leave,  a 
little  after  six,  very  kindly  of  me  and  the 
whole  company.  So  took  coach  and  to 
Windsor,  to  the  Garter,  and  thither  sent  for 
Dr.  Childe  :  who  come  to  us,  and  carried  us 
to  St.  George's  Cliapel,  and  there  placed  us 
among  the  Knight's  stalls ;  (and  pretty  the 
observation,  that  no  man,  but  a  woman  may 
sit  in  a  Knight's  place,  where  any  brass- 
plates  are  set),  and  hither  come  cushions  to 


CLERGY    AND    WORSHIP  IH 

US,  and  a  youiig  singing-boy  to  bring  us  a 
coi)}^  of  the  anthem  to  be  sung.  And  here, 
for  our  sakes,  had  this  anthem  and  the  great 
service  sung  extraordinary,  only  to  entertain 
us.  It  is  a  noble  place  indeed,  and  a  good 
Quire  of  voices.  Great  bowing  by  all  the 
people,  the  poor  Knights  in  particularly,  to 
the  ALter.  After  i^rayers,  we  to  see  the 
plate  of  the  chapel,  and  the  robes  of  Knights^ 
and  a  man  to  show  us  the  banners  of  the 
several  Knights  in  being,  Avhich  hang  up 
over  the  stalls. 

February  26,  1665-6. 

VyALKED  into  the  Park  to  the  Queen's 
*  *  chapel,  and  there  heard  a  good  deal 
of  their  mass,  and  some  of  their  musique, 
which  is  not  so  contemptible,  I  think,  as  our 
people  would  make  it,  it  pleasing  me  very 
well ;  and,  indeed,  better  than  the  anthem 
I  heard  afterwards  at  AVhite  Hall,  at  my 
coming  back.  I  staid  till  the  King  went 
down  to  receive  the  Sacrament,  and  stood 
in  his  closet  with  a  great  many  others,  and 
there  saw  him  receive  it,  which  I  did  never 
see  the  manner  of  before. 

April  11,  1666. 

]\/j"  R.  HOLLIER  dined  with  my  wife  and 
^^^-  me.  ]\ruch  discourse  about  the  bad 
state  of  the  Church,  and  how  the  Clergy  are 
come  to  be  men  of  no  worth  in  the  world; 
and,  as  the  world  do  now  generally  discourse' 


112      LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

they  must  be  reformed :  and  I  believe  the 
Hierarchy  will  in  a  little  time  be  shaken, 
Avhether  they  will  or  no;  the  King  being 
offended  with  them  and  set  upon  it,  as  I 
hear, 

F-ebruary  i6,  1667-8. 

n^  HEN  to  White  Hall Thence  to  the 

-■-  chapel,  it  being  St.  Peter's  day,  and 
did  hear  an  anthem  of  Silas  Taylor's  making ; 
a  dull,  old-fashioned  thing  of  six  and  seven 
parts,  that  nobody  could  understand :  and 
the  Duke  of  York,  when  he  came  out,  told 
me  that  he  was  a  better  storekeeper  than 
anthem-maker,  and  that  was  bad  enough 
too. 

June  29,  1668. 

'T^HE    great    talk   of    the   towne  is  the 
J-       strange    election    that    the    City    of 
London    made    yesterday   for    Parliament- 
men;  viz.  Fowke,  Love,    Jones,    and  .  .  ., 
men  that,  so  far  from  being  episcopall,  are 
thought  to  be  Anabaptists ;  and  chosen  with 
a  great  deal  of  zeale,  in  spite  of  the  other 
part}'   that   thought   themselves  so  strong, 
calling  out  in   the  Hall,    '  No  Bishops  !  no 
Lord  Bishops  ! '     It  do  make  people  to  fear 
it  may  come  to  worse,  by  being  an  examj^le 
to  the  country  to  do  the  same.     And  indeed 
the  Bishops  are  so  high,  that  very  few  do 
love  them. 

March  20,  1660-1. 


CLERGY    AXD     WORSHIP  II3 

'T^HIS  day,  I  hear,  the  Parliament  have 
ordered  a  bill  to  be  brought  in  for 
restoring  the  Bishops  to  the  House  of  Lords ; 
which  they  had  not  done  so  soon  but  to  spite 
Mr.  Prin,  who  is  every  day  so  bitter  against 
them  in  his  discourse  in  the  House. 

^'^y  30,  1 66 1. 

WEDNESDAY,  a  day  kept  between  a 
fast  and  a  feast,  the  Bishops  not 
bejng  ready  enough  to  keep  the  fast  for 
foule  weather  before  fair  weather  come; 
and  so  they  were  forced  to  keep  it  between 
both. 

June  12,  1 66 1. 

QOMIXG    home    to-night,    I    met    with 
AVill.  Swan,  who  do  talk  as  high  for 
the  Fanatiques  as  ever  he  did  in  his  life  • 
and  do  pity  my  Lord  Sandwich  and  me  that 
we  should  be  given  up  to  the  wickedness  of 
the  world  ;  and  that  a  fall  is  coming  upon  us 
all;  for  he  finds  that  he  and  his  company 
are  the  true  spirit  of  the  nation,  and  the 
greater  part  of  the  nation  too,  who  will  have 
liberty  of  conscience  in  s})ite  of  this  'Act 
of  Uniformity,'  or  they  will  die  ;  and  if  they 
may  not  preach  abroad,  thev  will  preacli  in 
tJieir  own  -houses.    He  told  me  that  certainly 
Sir  H.  Vane  must  be  gone  to  Heaven,  for  he 
died  as   much  a  martyr  and  saint  as  ever 
man  .lid  ;  and  that  the  King  hath  lost  more 


H 


114      LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

by  that  man's  death,  than  he  will  get  again 
a  good  while.  At  all  which  I  know  not 
what  to  think ;  but,  I  confess,  I  do  think 
that  the  Bishops  will  never  be  able  to  carry 
it  so  high  as  they  do.  June  22,  1662. 

THIS  I  take  to  be  as  bad  a  juncture  as 
ever  I  observed.  The  King  and  his 
new  Queene  minding  their  pleasures  at 
Hampton  Court.  All  people  discontented  ; 
some  that  the  King  do  not  gratify  them 
enough ;  and  the  others,  Fanatiques  of  all 
sorts,  that  the  King  do  take  away  their 
liberty  of  conscience  ;  and  the  height  of 
the  Bishops,  who  I  fear  will  ruin  all  again. 
They  do  much  cry  uj^  the  manner  of  Sir 
H.  Vane's  death,  and  he  deserves  it. 

June  1662. 

TO  my  Lord  Crewe's,  and  dined  with  him 
and  his  brother,  I  know  not  his  name. 
Where  very  good  discourse.  .  .  .  By  aiid  by 
come  in  the  great  Mr.  Swinfen,  the  Pai'lia- 
ment-man,  who,  among  other  discourse  of 
the  rise  and  fall  of  familys,  told  us  of 
Bishop  Bridgeman  (father  of  Sir  Orlando) 
Avho  lately  hath  bought  a  seat  anciently  of 
the  Levers,  and  then  the  Ashtons ;  and  so 
he  hath  in  his  great  hall  window  (having 
repaired  and  beautified  the  house)  caused 
four  great  places  to  be  left  for  coates  of 
armes.     In  one  he  hath  put  the  Levers,  with 


CLERGY     AND     WORSHIP  115 

this  motto,  '  Olim.'  In  another  the  Ashtons, 
with  this,  'Heri.'  In  the  next  his  own,  with 
til  is,  'Hodie.'  In  the  fourtli  nothing  but 
this  motto,  'Cras  nescio  cujus.'  The  towne 
I  hear  is  full  of  discontents,  and  all  know 
of  the  King's  new  bastard  by  Mrs.  Hasle- 
rigge,  and  as  far  as  I  can  hear  will  never 
be  contented  with  Episcopacy,  they  are  so 
cruelly  set  for  Presbytery,  and  the  Bishops 
carry  themselves  so  high,  that  they  are 
never  likely  to  gain  anything  upon  them. 

Xovciiibcr  12,  1662. 

QTRANGE  to  hear  how  my  Lord  Ashley, 
»^  by  my  Lord  ]]ristoi"s  means  (he 
being  brought  over  to  the  Catholi(iue  party 
against  the  Bishops,  whom  he  hates  to  the 
death,  and  publicly  rails  against  them ;  not 
that  he  is  become  a  Catholique,  but  merely 
opposes  the  Bishoi)s  ;  and  yet,  for  aught  I 
hear,  the  Bishop  of  London  keeps  as  great 
with  the  King  as  ever),  is  got  into  favour, 
so  much  that,  being  a  man  of  great  business 
and  yet  of  pleasure,  and  drolling  too,  he, 
it  is  thought,  will  be  made  Lord  Treasurer 
upon  the  death  or  removal  of  the  good  old 
man.  ...  In  Scotland,  it  seems,  for  all  the 
newsbooks  tell  us  every  week  that  they  are 
all  so  quiet,  and  every  thing  in  the  Church 
settled,  the  old  woman  like  to  have  killed, 
the  other  day,  the  Bisho])  of  Galloway,  and 
not  half  the  Churches  of  the  whole  kingdom 
conform.  May  15,  166: 


■'^« 


Il6      LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

'T*0  White  Hall,  and  there  to  chapel; 
-*-  where  it  was  most  infinite  to  hear 
Dr.  Critton.  The  Doctor  preached  upon 
the  thirty-first  of  Jerem}-,  and  the  twent}-- 
first  and  twent^'-second  verses,  about  a 
woman  compassing  a  man ;  meaning  the 
Virgin  conceiving  and  bearing  our  Saviour. 
It  was  the  worst  sermon  I  ever  heard  him 
make,  I  must  confess  ;  and  yet  it  was  good, 
and  in  two  places  very  bitter,  advising  the 
King  to  do  as  the  Emperor  Severus  did,  to 
hang  up  a  Presbyter  John  (a  short  coat  and 
a  long  gowne  interchangeably)  in  all  the 
Courts  of  England.  But  the  story  of  Severus 
was  pretty,  that  he  hanged  up  forty  senators 
before  the  Senate-house,  and  then  made  a 
speech  presently  to  the  Senate  in  praise  of 
his  own  lenit}' ;  and  then  decreed  that  never 
any  senator  after  that  time  should  suffer  in 
the  same  manner  without  consent  of  the 
Senate  ;  which  lie  compared  to  the  proceed- 
ing of  the  Long  Parliament  against  my  Lord 
Strafford.  He  said  the  greatest  part  of  the 
lay  magistrates  in  England  were  Puritans, 
and  would  not  do  justice  ;  and  the  Bishops' 
powers  were  so  taken  away  and  lessened, 
that  they  could  not  exercise  the  power  they 
ought.  He  told  the  King  and  the  ladies, 
plainly  speaking  of  death  and  of  the  skulls 
and  bones  of  dead  men  and  women,  how 
there  is  no  difference ;  that  nobody  could 
tell  that  of  the  great  Marius  or  Alexander 


CLERGY     A  >'  D     WORSHIP  UJ 

from  a  p^'oneer ;  nov,  for  all  the  pains  the 
ladies  take  with  their  faces,  he  that  shonld 
look  in  a  charnel-house  could  not  distinguish 
which  was  Cleopatra's,  or  fair  Rosamond's,  or 
Jane  Shore's. 

Jl/arc/i  25,  1663-4. 

T  FIND  by  him  that  the  Bishops  must 
-*-  certainly  fall,  and  their  hierarchy ; 
these  people  have  got  so  much  ground  upon 
the  King  and  kingdom  as  is  not  to  be  got 
again  from  them :  and  the  Bishops  do  well 
deserve  it.  But  it  is  all  the  talk,  I  find, 
that  Dr.  "Wilkins,  my  friend,  Bishop  of 
Chester,  shall  be  removed  to  "Winchester 
and  be  Lord  Treasurer.  Though  this  be 
foolish  talk,  yet  I  do  gather  that  he  is  a 
mighty  rising  man,  as  being  a  Latitudin- 
arian,    and   the  Duke   of  Buckingham  his 

great  friend. 

Marc/i  16,  1668-9. 


X 


AN  HISTORIC  FAIR 


An  old  custom  revived.      Wrestling.      Hunt- 
ing.     Shooting.      A   challenger.     The   play 
of  'Bartholomew  Fayre.'      A   puppet-play 
Stage  play.     Rope-dancing, 
mare.     A  dancing  mare. 


An  intelligent 


I  HIS  noon  going  to  the  Ex- 
change, I  met  a  fine  fellow 
with  trumpets  before  him  in 
Leadenhall  -  street,  and  upon 
enquiry  I  find  that  he  is  the 
clerke  of  the  City  Market ;  and  three  or  four 
men  carried  each  of  them  an  arrow  of  a 
pound  weight  in  their  hands.  It  seems  this 
Lord  Mayor  begins  again  an  old  custome, 
that  upon  the  three  first  days  of  Bartholomew 
Fayre,  the  first,  there  is  a  match  of  wrest- 
ling, which  was  done,  and  the  Lord  Mayor 
there  and  the  Aldermen  in  Moorefields 
yesterday :  second  day,  shooting :  and  to- 
morrow hunting.     And  this  officer  of  course 

lis 


AX     HISTORIC    FAIR  II9 

is  to  perform  this  ceremony  of  riding  through 
the  city,  I  think  to  proclaim  or  challenge  any 
to  shoot.  It  seems  the  people  of  the  faire 
cry  out  upon  it  as  a  great  hindrance  to  them. 

Aji^^jist  25,  1663. 

'THO  the  King's  play-house,  and  there  saw 
-^       '  Bartholomew  Fa3're ' ;  which  do  still 
please  me ;   and  is,  as  it  is  acted,  the  best 
comedy  in  the  world,  I  believe. 

August  2,  1664. 

T    TO  Bartholomew  faj're  to  walk  up  and 

-*■     down  ;   and  there  among  other  things 

find  m}-  Lady  Castlemaine  at  a  puppet-play 

('Patient  Grizell'),    and  the   street  full   of 

people  expecting  her  coming  out. 

Ai(gust  30,  1667. 

SO  I  out,  and  met  my  wife  in  a  coach, 
and  stopped  her  going  thither  to  meet 
me ;  and  took  her  and  Mercer  and  Deb.  to 
Bartholomew  fair,  and  there  did  see  a 
ridiculous,  obscene  little  stage-])lay,  called 
'  j\Iarry  Audrey  ' ;  a  foolish  thing,  but  seen 
by  ever}^  body :  and  so  to  Jacob  Hall's 
dancing  on  the  ropes  ;  a  thing  worth  seeing, 
and  mightily  followed.  August  29,  1668. 

*"  I "  O  the  fair,  and  there  saw  several  sights ; 
-^       among  others,    the    mare    that   tells 
money  and  man}-  things  to  admiration. 

September  i,  1668. 


I20      LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

TO  the  fair  to  see  the  play  'Bartholomew- 
fair,'  with  puppets.  And  it  is  an 
excellent  play  !  the  more  I  see  it,  the  more  I 
love  the  wit  of  it ;  only  the  business  of  abus- 
ing the  Puritans  begins  to  grow  stale  and  of 
no  use,   they  being  the  people  that  at  last 

will  be  found  the  wisest. 

September  4,  1668. 

WITH  my  Lord  Brouncker  (who  was 
this  day  in  unusual  manner  merry, 
I  believe  with  drink),  J.  Minnes,  and  W.  Pen 
to  Bartholomew-fair;  and  there  saw  the 
dancing  mare  again  (which  to-daj'  I  find  to 
act  much  worse  than  the  other  day,  she  for- 
getting many  things,  which  her  master  beat 
her  for,  and  was  mightily  vexed),  and  then 
the  dancing  of  the  ropes,  and  also  the  little 
stage-play,  which  is  very  ridiculous. 

September  7,  1668. 


XI 


COROXATIOX  FESTIVITIES 


]>OUT  four  I  rose  and  got  to 

the  Abbey,  where  I  followed 

Sir  J.  Denham,  the  Surveyor, 

with  some  company  that  he 

was   leading  in.     And  with 

much  ado,  by  the  favour  of  Mr.  Cooper,  his 

man,  did  get  up  into  a  great  scaffold  across 

the  North  end  of  the  Abbey,  where  with  a 

great  deal  of  patience  I  sat  from  past  four 

till  eleven  before  the  King  come  in.     And  a 

great  pleasure  it  was  to  see  the  Abbey  raised 

in  the  middle,  all  covered  with  red,  and  a 

throne  (that  is  a  chaire)  and  footstoole  on 

the  top  of  it ;  and  all  the  officers  of  all  kind-s 

so  much  as   the  very  fidlers,  in  red  vests. 

At  last  comes  in  the  Dean  and  Prebends  of 

Westminster,    with  the  Bishops  (many  of 

them  in  cloth  of  gold  copes),  and  after  them 

the  Nobility,  all  in  their  Parliament  robes, 

which  was  a  most  magnificent  sight.     Then 

121 


122      LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

the   Duke  and    the    King  with    a    scepter 
(carried  b}-  my  Lord  Sandwich)  and  sword  and 
wand  before  him,  and  the  crowne  too.     The 
King  in  his  robes,  bare-headed,  which  was 
very  fine.     And  after  all  had  placed  them- 
selves, there  was  a  sermon  and  the  service  ; 
and  then  in  the  Quire  at  the  high  altar,  the 
King  passed  through  all  the  ceremonies  of 
the  Coronation,  which  to  my  great  grief  I 
and  most  in  the  Abbey  could  not  see.     The 
crowne  being  put  upon  his   head,  a  great 
shout  begun,  and  he  come  forth  to  the  throne, 
and  there  jmssed  through  more  ceremonies  : 
as  taking  tlie  oath,  and  having  things  read 
to  him  by  the  Bishopp ;  and  his  lords  (who 
put  on  their  caps  as  soon  as  the  King  put  on 
his  crowne)  and  bishops  come,  and  kneeled 
before  him.     And  three  times  the  King  at 
Armes  went  to  the  three  open  places  on  the 
scaffold,  and  proclaimed,  that  if  any  one 
could  show  any  reason  why  Charles  Stewart 
should  not  be  King  of  England,  that  now  he 
should  come  and  speak.     And  a  Generall 
Pardon  also  was  read  by  the  Lord  Chancellor, 
and   meddalls  flung  up  and  down  by  my 
Lord  Cornwallis,  of  silver,  but  I  could  not 
come  by  any.     But  so  great  a  noise  that  I 
could  make  but  little  of  the  musique :  and, 
indeed,  it  was  lost  to  every  body.    I  went  out 
a  little  while  before  the  King  had  done  all 
his  ceremonies,  and  went  round  the  Abbey  to 
Westminster  Hall,  all  the  way  within  rayles, 


COROXATIOX     FESTIVITIES  I23 

and  10,000  people  with  tlie  ground  covered 
with  blue  cloth  ;  and  scaffolds  all  the  way. 
Into  the  Hall  I  got,  where  it  was  very  fine 
with  hangings  and  scaffolds  one  npon  another 
full  of  brave  ladies ;  and  my  wife  in  one 
little  one,  on  the  right  hand.  Here  I  staid 
walking  up  and  down,  and  at  last  upon  one 
of  the  side  stalls  I  stood  and  saw  the  King 
come  in  with  all  the  persons  (but  the  soldiers) 
that  were  yesterdaj'  in  the  cavalcade  ;  and  a 
most  jileasant  sight  it  was  to  see  them  in 
their  several  robes.  And  the  King  come  in 
with  his  crowne  on,  and  his  sceptre  in  his 
hand,  under  a  canopy  borne  up  by  six  silver 
staves,  carried  by  Barons  of  the  Cinque 
Ports,  and  little  bells  at  every  end.  And 
after  a  long  time,  he  got  up  to  the  farther 
end,  and  all  set  themselves  down  at  their 
several  tables ;  and  that  was  also  a  brave 
sight :  and  the  King's  first  course  carried  up 
by  the  Knights  of  the  Bath.  And  many  fine 
ceremonies  there  was  of  the  Heralds  leading 
up  people  before  him,  and  bowing  ;  and  my 
Lord  of  Albemarle's  going  to  the  kitchin  and 
eating  a  bit  of  the  first  dish  that  was  to  go 
to  the  King's  table.  But,  above  all,  was 
these  three  Lords,  Northumberland,  and 
Suffolke,  and  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  coming 
before  the  courses  on  horseback,  and  stay- 
ing so  all  dinner-time,  and  at  last  bringing 
up  (Dymock)  the  King's  Chami)ion,  all  in 
armour  on  horseback,  with  his  speare  and 


124      LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

targett  carried  before  him.  And  a  herald 
proclaims  'That  if  aii}^  dare  deny  Charles 
Stewart  to  be  lawful  King  of  England,  here 
was  a  Chami^ion  that  would  fight  with  him  ' ; 
and  with  these  words,  the  Champion  flings 
down  his  gauntlet,  and  all  this  he  do  three 
times  in  his  going  up  towards  the  King's 
table.  To  which  when  he  is  come,  the  King 
drinks  to  him,  and  then  sends  him  the  cup 
which  is  of  gold,  and  he  drinks  it  off,  and 
then  rides  back  again  with  the  cup  in  his 
hand.  I  went  from  table  to  table  to  see  the 
Bishops  and  all  others  at  their  dinner,  and 
was  infinitely  pleased  with  it.  And  at  the 
Lords'  table,  I  met  with  "William  Howe,  and 
he  sjioke  to  my  Lord  for  me,  and  he  did  give 
him  four  rabbits  and  a  pullet,  and  so  Mr. 
Creed  and  I  got  Mr.  Min shell  to  give  us  some 
bread,  and  so  we  at  a  stall  eat  it,  as  every 
body  else  did  what  they  could  get.  I  took  a 
great  deal  of  pleasure  to  go  up  and  down, 
and  look  u^jon  the  ladies,  and  to  hear  the 
musique  of  all  sorts,  but  above  all,  the 
24  violins.  About  six  at  night  they  had 
dined,  and  I  went  up  to  my  wife.  And 
strange  it  is  to  think,  that  these  two  days 
have  held  up  fair  till  now  that  all  is  done, 
and  the  King  gone  out  of  the  Hall ;  and  then 
it  fell  a-raining  and  thundering  and  lighten- 
ing as  I  have  not  seen  it  do  for  some  j-ears  : 
which  people  did  take  great  notice  of ;  God's 
blessing  of  the  work  of  these  two  days,  which 


CORONATION     FESTIVITIES  I25 

is  a  foolery  to  take  too  much  notice  of  such 
things.     I  observed  little  disorder  in  all  this, 
only  the  King's  footmen  had  got  hold  of  the 
canopy,  and  would  keep  it  from  the  Barons 
of  the  Cinque  Ports,  which  they  endeavoured 
to  force  from  them  again,  but  could  not  do  it 
till  my  Lord  Duke  of  Albemarle  caused  it  to 
1)6  put  into  Sir  R.  P\-e's  hand  till  to-morrow 
to   be   decided.     At  Mr.  Bowj-or's;  a  great 
deal  of  company,  some  I  knew,  others  I  di<l 
not.      Here   we   staid  ujjon  the  leads  and 
below  till  it  was  late,  expecting  to  see  the 
fire-works,    but   they   were    not    performed 
to-night :   onl}-  the  City  had  a  light  like  a 
glory  round  about  it  with  bonfires.     At  last 
I    went    to    King-streete,    and    there    sent 
Crockford  to  my  father's  and  my  house,  to 
tell  them  I  could  not  come  home  to-night, 
because  of  the  dirt,  and  a  coach  could  not  be 
had.      And  so  I   took   my  wife  and   Mrs. 
Franklevn   (who   I   profered  the  civilit}-  of 
lying  with  my  wife  at  Mrs.  Hunt's  to-night) 
to  Axe-yard,  in  which  at  the  further   end 
there  were  three  great  bonfires,  and  a  great 
many  great  gallants,  men  and  women  ;  and 
they  laid  hold  of  us,   and  would  have  us 
drink    the   King's  health  upon   our  knees, 
kneeling  upon  a  faggot,  which  we  all  did, 
they  drinking  to  us  one  after  another.    Wliich 
we  thought  a  strange   frolique  ;   but   tliese 
gallants  continued  there  a  great  while,  anil  I 
wondered  to  see  how  the  ladies  did  tipple. 


126      LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

At  last  I  sent  m}'  wife  and  her  bedfellow  to 
bed,  and  Mr.  Hunt  and  I  went  in  with  Mr, 
Thornbury  (who  did  give  the  company  all 
their  wine,  he  being  yeoman  of  the  wine- 
cellar  to  the  King) ;  and  there,  with  his  wife 
and  two  of  his  sisters,  and  some  gallant 
sparks  that  were  there,  we  drank  the  King's 
health,  and  nothing  else,  till  one  of  the 
gentlemen  fell  down  stark  drunk,  and  there 
lay  ;  and  I  went  to  my  Lord's  pretty  well. 
Thus  did  the  day  end  with  joy  every  where  ; 
and  blessed  be  God,  I  have  not  heard  of 
any  mischance  to  any  body  through  it  all, 
but  only  to  Serj*.  Glynne,  whose  horse  fell 
upon  him  yesterday,  and  is  like  to  kill  him, 
wliich  peoi3le  do  please  themselves  to  see 
how  just  God  is  to  punish  the  rogue  at  such 
a  time  as  this  :  he  being  now  one  of  the 
King's  Serjeants,  and  rode  in  the  cavalcade 
with  Maynard,  to  whom  people  wish  the 
same  fortune.  There  was  also  this  night  in 
King-streete,  a  woman  had  her  eye  put  out 
by  a  boy's  flinging  a  firebrand  into  the  coach. 
Now,  after  all  this,  I  can  say,  that,  besides 
the  pleasure  of  the  sight  of  these  glorious 
things,  I  may  now  shut  ray  eyes  against  any 
other  objects,  nor  for  the  future  trouble 
myself  to  see  things  of  state  and  showe,  as 
being  sure  never  to  see  the  like  again  in 
this  world. 

April  23,  1661. 


XII 


THE  PLAGUE  OF  LONDON 


O  the  Coffee-house,  whei'e  all 
the  news  is  of  the  Dutch 
being  gone  out,  and  of  the 
l)lague  growing  upon  us  in 
this    town ;    and    of    remedies 

against  it :  some  saying  one  thing,  and  some 

another. 

May  24,  1665. 


'T^HE  hottest  day  that  ever  I  felt  in  my 
-■■  life.  This  da}-,  much  against  my  will, 
I  did  in  Drur}-  Lane  see  two  or  three  houses 
marked  witli  a  red  cross  upon  the  doors,  and 
'Lord  have  mere}-  u])on  us,'  writ  there; 
Avhich  was  a  sad  sight  to  me,  being  the 
first  of   tlie  kind  that  to  ni}'  remembrance 

I  ever  saw. 

June  7,  1665 
127 


128       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

TT  OME  by  hacknej^  coach,  which  is  be- 
■'-  -■-     come  a  very  dangerous  passage  now- 
a-days,  the  sickness  encreasing  mightilj-. 

June  23,  1665. 

n^O  White  Hall,  where  the  Court  full  of 
-■-  waggons  and  people  ready  to  go  out 
of  town.  This  end  of  the  town  ever}-  day 
grows  very  bad  of  the  plague.  The  Mor- 
tality Bill  is  come  to  267:  which  is  about 
ninety  more  than  the  last:  and  of  these 
but  four  in  the  City,  which  is  a  great  Ijless- 
ing  to  us. 

June  29,  1665. 

A  SOLEMN  fast-day  for  the  plague  grow- 
■^"^     ing  upon  us. 

July  12,  1663. 

A  BOVE  700  died  of  the  plague  this 
•^~*-     week. 

July  13,  1665. 

"Il/'ALKED  to  Redriffe,  where  I  hear  the 
*  *  sickness  is,  and  indeed  2s  scattered 
almost  everywhere.  There  dying  1089  of  the 
plague  this  week.  My  Lady  Carteret  did 
this  day  give  me  a  bottle  of  plague-water 
home  witli  me. 

July  20,  1665. 

A  T  home  met  the  weekly  Bill,  where 
-^"^  above  100  encreased  in  the  Bill,  and 
of  them,  in  all  about  1700  of  the  plague, 


THE  PLAGUE  OF  LONDOX     I29 

which  hath  made  the  officers  this  day  resolve 
of   sitting  at  Deptford,   which   puts  me  to 

some  consideration  what  to  do. 

July  27,  1665. 

IT  was  a  sad  noise  to  hear  our  bell  to  toll 
and  ring   so   often   to-day,    either    for 
death  or  burials  :  I  think  five  or  six  times. 

July  30,  1665. 

"D  Y  and  by  to  the  office,  wdiere  we  sat  all 

-L'     the  morning ;  in  great  trouble  to  see 

the  Bill  this  week  rise  so  high,  to  above  4000 

in  all,  and  of  them  above  3000  of  the  plague. 

Home,  to  draw  over  anew  my  will,  which  I 

had  bound  myself  by  oath  to  dispatch  by 

to-morrow    night ;     the    town    growing    so 

unhealthy,  that  a  man  cannot  depend  uj^on 

living  two  days. 

August  lo,  1665. 

I  COULD  not  get  vay  waterman  to  go  else- 
where for  fear  of  the  plague.  Thence 
with  a  lanthorn,  in  great  fear  of  meeting 
of  dead  corpses,  carrying  to  be  Ijuried ;  but, 
blessed  be  God,  met  none,  but  did  see  now 
and  then  a  linke  (which  is  the  mark  of  them) 

at  a  distance. 

August  20,  1665. 

UP;  and  after  putting  several  things  in 
order  to  my  removal  to  Woolwich  ; 
the  plague  having  a  great  encrease  this  week 

I 


130       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYS'     DIARY 

beyond  all  expectation  of  almost  2000,  mak- 
ing the  general  Bill  7000,  odd  100  ;  and  the 
plague  above  6000.  Thus  this  month  ends 
with  great  sadness  upon  the  publick,  through 
the  greatness  of  the  plague  every  where 
through  the  kingdom  almost.  Every  da^' 
sadder  and  sadder  news  of  its  encrease.  In 
the  City  died  this  week  7496,  and  of  them 
6102  of  the  plague.  But  it  is  feared  that  the 
true  number  of  the  dead  this  week  is  near 
10,000 ;  partly  from  the  poor  that  cannot  be 
taken  notice  of,  through  the  greatness  of  the 
numbers,  and  partly  from  the  Quakers  and 
others  that  will  not  have  any  bell  ring  for 
them.  ...  As  to  myself  I  am  very  well, 
only  in  fear  of  the  plague. 

August  31,  1665. 


'nnO  London,  to  pack  up  more  things  ;  and 
-*-  there  I  saw  fires  burning  in  the 
streets,  as  it  is  through  the  whole  Citj',  by 
the  Lord  Mayor's  order.  Thence  by  water 
to  the  Duke  of  Albemarle's :  all  the  way  fires 
on  each  side  of  the  Thames,  and  strange  to 
see  in  broad  daylight  two  or  three  burials 
upon  the  Bankeside,  one  at  the  very  heels  of 
another :  doubtless  all  of  the  plague  ;  and 
3'et  at  least  forty  or  fifty  people  going  along 
with  every  one  of  them. 

September  6,  1665. 


THE  PLAGfE  OF  LONDON     I3I 

TO  the  Tower,  and  there  sent  for  the 
"Weekly  Bill,  and  find  8252  dead  in 
all,  and  of  them  6078  of  the  plague ;  which 
is  a  most  dreadful  number,  and  shows 
reason  to  fear  that  the  plague  hath  got  that 
hold  that  it  will  yet  continue  among  us. 

September  7,  1665. 

HERE  I  saw  this  week's  Bill  of  Mortalit}-, 
wherein,  blessed  be  God  !  there  is 
above  1800  decrease,  being  the  first  con- 
siderable decrease  we  have  had. 

September  27,  1665. 

IAVALKED  to  the  Tower ;  but,  Lord  ! 
how  empty  the  streets  are  and  melan- 
choly, so  many  poor  sick  people  in  the 
streets  full  of  sores ;  and  so  many  sad 
stories  overheard  as  I  walk,  every  bod}- 
talking  of  this  dead,  and  that  man  sick,  and 
so  many  in  this  place,  and  so  many  in  that. 
And  they  tell  me  that,  in  "Westminster, 
there  is  never  a  phvsician  and  but  one 
apothecary  left,  all  being  dead ;  but  that 
there  are  great  hopes  of  a  great  decrease 
this  week  :  God  send  it  I       October  i6,  1665. 

T  N   the  street   did   overtake    and    almost 

-*-     run    upon     two    women     crying    and 

carrying   a  man's  coffin  between   them.     I 

suppose  the  husband  of  one  of  them,  which, 

methinks,  is  a  sad  thing.       October  29,  1665. 


132      LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

THUS  we  end  the  month.     The  whole 
number  of  deaths  being  1388,  and  of 
them  of  the  plague  1031. 

October  31,  1665. 

'T^  HE  plague,  blessed  be  God !  is  decreased 

-■-       400  ;  making  the  whole  this  week  but 

1300  and  odd  :  for  which  the  Lord  be  praised  ! 

November  15,  1655. 

T  "WAS  very  glad  to  hear  that  the  plague 
-■-  is  come  very  low ;  that  is,  the  whole 
under  1000,  and  the  plague  600  and  odd : 
and  great  hopes  of  a  further  decrease, 
because  of  this  day's  being  a  very  exceeding 
hard  frost,  and  continues  freezing. 

Noveviber  22,  1665. 

"pvELIGHTFUL  it  is  to  see  the  town  full 
^—^  of  people  again  ;  and  shops  begin  to 
open,  though  in  manj^  places  seven  or  eight 
together,  and  more,  all  shut ;  but  yet  the 
town  is  full,  compared  with  what  it  used  to 
be.  I  mean  the  City  end :  for  Covent- 
Garden  and  "Westminster  are  3'et  very  empty 
of  people,  no  Court  nor  gentry  being  there. 

January  5,  1665-6. 

MIGHTILY  troubled  at  the  news  of  the 
plague's  being  encreased,  and  was 
much  the  saddest  news  that  the  jilague  hath 
brought  me  from  the  beginning  of  it;   be- 


THE     PLAGUE     OF     LONDON  I33 

cause  of  the  lateness  of  the  year,  and  the 
fear,  we  may  with  reason  have,  of  its  con- 
tinuing with  us  the  next  summer.  The 
total  being  now  375,  and  the  plague  158. 

Jamiary  i6,  1665-6. 

IT  is  a  remarkable  thing  how  infinitely 
naked  all  that  end  of  the  town,  Covent- 
Garden,  is  at  this  da^-  of  people  ;  while  the 
City  is  almost  as  full  again  of  people  as  ever 

it  was. 

January  19,  1665-6. 

THIS  is  the  first  time  I  have  been  in  the 
church  since  I  left  London  for  the 
plague,  and  it  frighted  me  indeed  to  go 
through  the  church  more  than  I  thought 
it  could  have  done,  to  see  so  man\'  graves 
lie  so  high  upon  the  churchyards  where 
people  have  been  buried  of  the  plague.  I 
was  much  troubled  at  it,  and  do  not  think 
to  go  through  it  again  a  good  while. 

January  30,  1665-6. 

1\ /r  Y  wife  and  I  the  first  time  together  at 
-^'-L  church  since  the  plague,  and  now 
only  because  of  !Mr.  Mills  his  coming  home 
to  preacli  his  first  sermon ;  expecting  a 
great  excuse  for  his  leaving  the  parish  before 
anybod}'  went,  and  now  staying  till  all  are 
come  home ;  but  he  made  but  a  very  ])oor 
and  short  excuse,  and  a  bad  sermon.    It  was 


134      LEAVES     FROM     P  E  P  Y  S       DIARY 

a  frost,  and  had  snowed  last  night,  which 
covered  the  graves  in  the  churchyard,  so  as 
I  was  the  less  afraid  for  going  through. 

February  4,  1665-6. 

TO  "Westminster  Hall,  where  the  first 
day  of  the  Terme  and  the  hall  very 
full  of  people,  and  much  more  than  was 
expected,  considering  the  plague  that  hath 

been. 

February  9,  1665-6. 

BLESSED  be  God !  a  good  Bill  this  week 
we  have ;  being  but  237  in  all,  and  42  of 
the  plague,  and  of  them  but  six  in  the  City  : 
though  m}'  Lord  Brouncker  says,  that  these 
six  are  most  of  them  in  new  parishes  where 
they  were  not  the  last  week. 

March  i,  1665-6. 


XIII 
GREAT  FIRE  OF  LOXDOX 

|OME  'of   our   maids   sitting    up 

late   last   night   to   get   things 

ready  against  our  feast  to-daj', 

Jane  called  us  up  about  three 

in  the  morning,   to  tell  i:s  of 

a  great  fire  they  saw  in  the   Cit}'.     So   I 

rose,  and   slipped   on   my  night-gown,   and 

went  to  her  window  ;  and  thought  it  to  be 

on    the    back-side    of    ]Marke-]ane    at    the 

farthest,  but  being  unused  to  such  fires  as 

followed,  I  thought  it  far  enough  off ;  and 

so  went  to  bed  again,  and  to  sleep.     About 

seven  rose  again  to  dress  myself,  and  there 

looked  out  at  the  window,  and  saw  the  fire 

not  so  much  as  it  was,  and  further  off'.     So 

to  my  closet  to  set  things  to  rights,  after 

j-esterday's    cleaning.       By    and    b}-    Jane 

comes  and  tells  me  that  she  hears  that  above 

;^00  houses  have  been  burned  down  to-night 

by  the  fire  we  saw,  and  that  it  is  now  })urning 

135 


136      LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

down  all  Fish-street,  by  London  Bridge. 
So  I  made  myself  ready  presently,  and 
walked  to  the  Tower,  and  there  got  up  upon 
one  of  the  high  places.  Sir  J.  Robinson's 
little  son  going  up  with  me ;  and  there  I  did 
see  the  houses  at  that  end  of  the  bridge  all 
on  jSre,  and  an  infinite  great  fire  on  this  and 
the  other  side  the  end  of  the  bridge ;  which, 
among  other  people,  did  trouble  me  for  poor 
little  Michell  and  our  Sarah  on  the  bridge. 
So  down  with  my  heart  full  of  trouble  to 
the  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  who  tells  me 
that  it  begun  this  morning  in  the  King's 
baker's  house  in  Pudding-lane,  and  that  it 
hath  burned  down  St.  Magnes  Church  and 
most  part  of  Fish-street  already.  .  .  . 
Every  body  endeavouring  to  remove  their 
goods,  and  flinging  into  the  river,  or 
bringing  them  into  lighters  that  la}'  off ; 
poor  people  staying  in  their  houses  as 
long  as  till  the  very  fire  touched  them,  and 
then  running  into  boats,  or  clambering  from 
one  pair  of  stairs  by  the  water-side  to 
another.  And  among  other  things,  the  jDoor 
pigeons,  I  perceive,  were  loth  to  leave  their 
houses,  but  hovered  about  the  windows  and 
balconys,  till  they  burned  their  wings,  and 
fell  down.  ...  At  last  met  my  Lord 
Mayor  in  Canning-street,  like  a  man  sjoent, 
with  a  handkercher  about  his  neck.  To  the 
King's  message,  he  cried,  like  a  fainting 
'  Lord !    what    can    I    do  ?    I    am 


GREAT     FIRE     OF     LONDON"  I37 

spent :  jjeople  will  not  obey  me.  I  have 
been  pulling  down  houses ;  but  the  fire 
overtakes  us  faster  than  we  can  do  it.' 
That  he  needed  no  more  soldiers ;  and 
that,  for  himself,  he  must  go  and  refresh 
himself,  having  been  up  all  night.  So  he 
left  me,  and  I  him,  and  walked  home  ;  see- 
ing i^eople  all  almost  distracted,  and  no 
manner  of  means  vised  to  quench  the  fire. 
The  houses  too  so  verv  thick  thereabouts, 
and  full  of  matter  for  burning,  as  pitch  and 
tar,  in  Thames-street ;  and  warehouses  of 
oyle,  and  wines,  and  brand}',  and  other 
things.  .  .  .  And  to  see  the  churches  all 
filling  with  goods  by  people,  who  themselves 
should  have  been  quietly-  there  at  this  time. 
.  .  .  Soon  as  dined,  I  and  Moone  away,  and 
walked  through  the  City,  the  streets  full  of 
nothing  but  people,  and  horses  and  carts 
loaden  with  goods,  ready  to  run  over  one 
another,  and  removing  goods  from  one 
burned  house  to  another.  .  .  .  River  full  of 
lighters  and  boats  taking  in  goods,  and  good 
goods  swimming  in  the  water,  and  only  I 
observed  that  hardly  one  lighter  or  boat  in 
three  that  had  the  goods  of  a  house  in,  but 
there  was  a  pair  of  Yirginalls  in  it.  .  .  . 
When  we  could  endure  no  more  upon 
the  water,  we  to  a  little  ale-house  on  the 
Bankside,  over  against  the  Three  Cranes, 
and  there  staid  till  it  was  dark  almost, 
and   saw    the    fire  grow,    and    as    it    grew 


138       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

darker,  appeared  more  and  more,  and  in 
corners  and  upon  steeples,  and  between 
clmrches  and  houses,  as  far  as  we  could  see 
up  the  hill  of  the  City,  in  a  most  horrid 
malicious  bloody  flame,  not  like  the  fine 
flame  of  an  ordinary  fire.  Barbary  and  her 
husband  away  before  us.  We  staid  till,  it 
being  darkish,  we  saw  the  fire  as  only  one 
entire  arch  of  fire  from  this  to  the  other  side 
the  bridge,  and  in  a  bow  up  the  hill  for  an 
arch  of  above  a  mile  long  :  it  made  me  weep 
to  see  it.  The  churches,  houses,  and  all  on 
fire,  and  flaming  at  once  ;  and  a  horrid  noise 
the  flames  made,  and  the  cracking  of  houses 
at  their  ruine.  So  home  with  a  sad  heart, 
and  there  find  ever}'^  body  discoursing  and 
lamenting  the  fire ;  and  poor  Tom  Hater 
come  with  some  few  of  his  goods  saved  out 
of  his  house,  which  was  burned  upon  Fish- 
street  Hill.  I  invited  him  to  lie  at  my 
house,  and  did  receive  his  goods,  but  was 
deceived  in  his  lying  there,  the  news  coming 
ever}' moment  of  the  growth  of  the  fire;  so 
as  we  were  forced  to  begin  to  pack  up  our 
own  goods,  and  prepare  for  their  removal ; 
and  did  by  moonshine  (it  being  brave  dry 
and  moonshine  and  warm  weather)  carry 
much  of  my  goods  into  the  garden,  and  Mr. 
Hater  and  I  did  remove  my  monej'  and  iron 
chests  into  my  cellar,  as  thinking  that  the 
safest  place.  And  got  mj-  bags  of  gold  into 
my  office,  ready  to  carrj-  away,  and  mj^  chief 


GREAT     FIRE     OF     LONDOX  I39 

papers  of  accounts  also  there,  and  m^'  tallies 

into  a  box  by  themselves.     So  great  was  our 

fear,  as  Sir  "NV.  Batten  hath  carts  come  out 

of  the  country  to  fetch  away  his  goods  this 

night.     "We  did  jmt  Mr.  Hater,  poor  man, 

to  bed  a  little  ;  but  he  got  but  very  little 

rest,  so  much  noise  being  in  my  house,  taking 

down  of  goods. 

September  2,  1666. 

ABOUT  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  my 
Lady  Batten  sent  me  a  cart  to  carry 
away  all  my  money,  and  plate,  and  best 
things,  to  Sir  "SV.  Rider's  at  Bednall-greene. 
"Which  I  did,  riding  myself  in  my  night 
gown,  in  the  cart ;  and,  Lord  1  to  see  how 
the  streets  and  the  highAvays  are  crowded 
with  ])eople  running  and  riding,  and  getting 
of  carts  at  any  rate  to  fetch  away  things.  I 
find  Sir  W.  Rider  tired  with  being  called  up 
all  night,  and  receiving  things  from  several 
friends.  His  house  full  of  goods,  and  much 
of  Sir  "W.  Batten's  and  Sir  "W.  Pen's.  I  am 
eased  at  my  heart  to  have  vay  treasure  so 
well  secured.  Then  home,  and  with  much 
ado  to  find  a  way,  nor  any  sleep  all  this 
night  to  me  nor  m}-  poor  wife.  But  then 
all  this  day  she  and  I,  and  all  my  people 
labouring  to  get  away  the  rest  of  our  things, 
and  did  get  Mr.  Tooker  to  get  me  a  lighter 
to  take  them  in,  and  we  did  carry  them 
(myself  some)  over  Tower  Hill,  which  was 


140      LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

by  this  time  full  of  people's  goods,  bringing 
their  goods  thither ;  and  down  to  the  lighter, 
which  lay  at  the  next  quay,  above  the  Tower 
Dock.  ...  At  night  lay  down  a  little  upon 
a  quilt  of  W.  Hewer's,  in  the  office,  all  my 
own  things  being  packed  up  or  gone  ;  and 
after  me  m}-  poor  wife  did  the  like,  we  having 
fed  upon  the  remains  of  yesterday's  dinner, 
having  no  fire  nor  dishes,  nor  any  opportunity 
of  dressing  any  thing. 

September  3,  1666. 

O  IR  W.  Batten  not  knowing  how  to  remove 
♦-^  his  wine,  did  dig  a  pit  in  the  garden,  and 
laid  it  in  there  ;  and  I  took  the  opportunity 
of  laying  all  the  papers  of  my  office  that  I 
could  not  otherwise  dispose  of.  And  in  the 
evening  Sir  W.  Pen  and  I  did  dig  another, 
and  put  our  wine  in  it ;  and  I  my  parmazan 
cheese,  as  well  as  my  wine  and  some  other 
things.  .  .  .  Onlj-  now  and  then,  walking 
into  the  garden,  saw  how  horribly  the  sky 
looks,  all  on  a  fire  in  the  night,  was  enough 
to  put  us  out  of  our  wits  ;  and,  indeed,  it  was 
extremely  dreadful,  for  it  looks  just  as  if  it 
was  at  us,  and  the  whole  heaven  on  fire.  I 
after  supper  walked  in  the  dark  down  to 
Tower-Street,  and  there  saw  it  all  on  fire, 
at  the  Trinity  House  on  that  side,  and  the 
Dolphin  Tavern  on  this  side,  which  was  verj-- 
near  us ;  and  the  fire  with  extraordinary 
vehemence.       Now  begins   the  practice  of 


GREAT     FIRK     OF     LONDON  I4I 

blowing  up  of  houses  in  Tower-Street,  those 
next  the  Tower,  which  at  first  did  frighten 
people  more  than  any  thing ;  but  it  stopped 
the  fire  where  it  was  done,  it  bringing  down 
the  houses  to  the  ground  in  the  same  places 
the}'  stood,  and  then  it  was  eas}-  to  quench 
what  little  fire  was  in  it,  though  it  kindled 
nothing  almost, 

Septejnber  4,  1666. 


*o 


T  LAY  down  in  the  office  again  upon  "W. 
■^  Hewer's  quilt,  being  mighty  weary,  and 
sore  in  my  feet  with  going  till  I  was  hardly 
able  to  stand.  About  two  in  the  morning 
my  wife  calls  me  up,  and  tells  me  of  new 
cryes  of  fire,  it  being  come  to  Barking 
Church,  which  is  the  bottom  of  our  lane.  I 
up ;  and  finding  it  so,  resolved  presently  to 
take  her  awa}-,  and  did,  and  took  my  gold, 
which  was  about  £2350.  .  .  .  Whereas  I 
expected  to  have  seen  our  house  on  fire,  it 
being  now  about  seven  o'clock,  it  was  not. 
But  to  the  fire,  and  there  find  greater  hopes 
than  I  expected  ;  for  my  confidence  of  find- 
ing our  office  on  fire  was  such,  that  I  durst 
not  ask  any  bodj-  how  it  was  with  us,  till  I 
come  and  saw  it  was  not  burned.  But  going 
to  the  fire,  I  find  by  the  blowing  up  of 
houses,  and  the  great  help  given  by  the 
workmen  out  of  the  King's  yards,  sent  up 
by  Sir  W.  Pen,  there  is  a  good  stop  given  to 
it,  as  well  at  Marke-Iane  end,  as  ours;  it 


142       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

having   only  burned  the  dyall  of  Barking 
Church,    and  part   of  the  porch,    and  was 
there  quenched.     I  up  to  the  top  of  Barking 
steeple,  and  there  saw  the  saddest  sight  of 
desolation  that  I  ever  saw  ;  every  where  great 
fires,  oyle-cellars,  and  brimstone,  and  other 
things  burning.    I  became  afraid  to  stay  there 
long,  and  therefore  down  again  as  fast  as  I 
could,  the  fire  being  spread  as  far  as  I  could 
see  it ;  and  to  Sir  W.  Pen's,  and  there  eat  a 
piece  of  cold  meat,    having  eaten  notliing 
since  Sunday,  but  the  remains  of  Sunday's 
dinner.    .    .    .    The   Exchange  a   sad   sight, 
nothing  standing  there,  of  all  the  statues  or 
pillars,  but  Sir  Thomas  Gresham's  picture  in 
the  corner.    Into  ]Moore-fields  (our  feet  ready 
to  burn,  walking  through  the  town  among 
the  hot  coles),  and  find  that  full  of  people, 
and  poor  wretches  carrying  their  goods  there, 
and  every  body  keeping  his  goods  together 
by  themselves  (and  a  great  blessing  it  is  to 
them  that  it  is  fair  weather  for  them   to 
keep  abroad  night  and  day) ;  drunk  there, 
and  paid  two  pence  for  a  plain  penny  loaf. 
Thence  homeward,   having  passed  through 
Cheapside,  and  Newgate  market,  all  burned  ; 
and  seen    Anthony   Joyce's  house   in   fire. 
And  took  up  (which  I  keep  by  me)  a  piece 
of  glass   of  Mercer's  chai)el  in  the   street, 
where  much  more  was,  so  melted  and  buckled 
with  the  heat  of  the  fire  like  parchment. 
.  .  .  But  it  is  a  strange  thing  to  see  how 


UREAT     FIRE     OF     LONDON  I43 

long  this  time  did  look  since  Sunday,  having 
been  always  full  of  variety  of  actions,  and 
little  sleep,  that  it  looked  like  a  week  or 
more,  and  I  had  forgot  almost  the  day  of 

the  week. 

September  5,  1666. 

T  T  was  pretty  to  see  how  hard  the 
-'■  women  did  work  in  the  cannells, 
sweeping  of  water ;  but  then  they  would 
scold  for  drink,  and  be  as  drunk  as  devils. 
I  saw  good  butts  of  sugar  broke  open 
in  the  street,  and  people  give  and  take 
handsfull  out,  and  put  into  beer,  and  drink 
it.  And  now  all  being  pretty  well,  I  took 
boat,  and  over  to  Southwarke,  and  took 
boat  on  the  other  side  of  the  bridge,  and  so 
to  "Westminster,  thinking  to  shift  myself, 
being  all  in  dirt  from  top  to  bottom ;  but 
could  not  there  find  any  place  to  buy  a  shirt 
or  a  pair  of  gloves,  "Westminster  Hall  being 
full  of  people's  goods,  those  in  Westminster 
having  removed  all  their  goods,  and  the 
Exchequer  money  put  into  vessels  to  carry 
to  Nonsuch ;  but  to  the  Swan,  and  there 
was  trimmed  :  and  then  to  AVhite  Hall,  but 
saw  nobody  ;  and  so  home.  A  sad  sight  to 
see  how  the  River  looks :  no  houses  nor 
church  near  it,  to  the  Temple,  where  it 
stopped.  .  .  .  From  them  to  the  office,  and 
there  slept  with  the  office  full  of  labourers, 
who  talked,  and  slept,  and  walked  all  night 


144      LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

long  there.  But  strange  it  is  to  see  Cloth- 
workers'  Hall  on  fire  these  three  days  and 
nights  in  one  body  of  flame,   it  being  the 

cellar  full  of  oyle. 

September  6,  1666. 

Up  by  five  o'clock  ;  and,  blessed  be  God  ! 
find  all  well ;  and  by  water  to  Pane's 
"Wharfe.  Walked  thence,  and  saw  all  the 
towne  burned,  and  a  miserable  sight  of 
Paul's  church,  Avith  all  the  roofs  fallen,  and 
the  body  of  the  quire  fallen  into  St.  Fayth's  : 
Paul's  School  also,  Ludgate,  and  Fleet- street. 
My  father's  house,  and  the  church,  and  a 
good  part  of  the  Temple  the  like.  So  to 
Creed's  lodging,  near  the  New  Exchange, 
and  there  find  him  laid  down  upon  a  bed ; 
the  house  all  unfurnished,  there  being  fears 
of  the  fire's  coming  to  them.  There 
borrowed  a  shirt  of  him,  and  washed.  .  .  . 
I  home  late  to  Sir  W.  Pen's,  who  did  give  me 
a  bed  ;  but  without  curtains  or  hangings,  all 
being  down.  So  here  I  went  the  first  time  into 
a  naked  bed,  only  my  drawers  on  ;  and  did 
sleep  prett}'  well :  but  still  both  sleeping 
and  waking  had  a  fear  of  fire  in  my  heart, 
that  I  took  little  rest.  People  do  all  the 
world  over  cry  out  of  the  simplicity  of  my 
Lord  Mayor  in  generall;  and  more  par- 
ticularl}-  in  this  business  of  the  fire,  laying 
it  all  upon  him.  A  proclamation  is  come 
out  for  markets  to  be  kept  at  Leadenhall 


GREAT     FIRE     OF     LONDON  I45 

and    Mile-end-greene,    and    several    other 

places  about  tlie  town  ;  and  Tower-hill,  and 

all  churches  to  be  set  open  to  receive  poor 

people. 

September  7,  1666. 


TDEOPLE   speaking   their   thoughts  vari- 
^       ously  about  the  beginning  of  the  fire, 
and  the  rebuilding  of  the  City. 

September  8,  1666. 


ALL  the  morning  clearing  our  cellars,  and 
breaking  in  pieces  all  my  old  lumber, 
to  make  room,  and  to  prevent  fire.  And 
then  to  Sir  W.  Batten's,  and  dined;  and 
there  hear  that  Sir  W.  Rider  says  that  the 
town  is  full  of  the  report  of  the  wealth  that 
is  in  his  house,  and  would  be  glad  that  his 
friends  would  provide  for  the  safety  of  their 
goods  there.  This  made  me  get  a  cart ;  and 
thither,  and  there  brought  my  money  all 
away.  Took  a  hackney-coach  m3'self  (the 
hacknej'-coaches  now  standing  at  Allgate). 
Much  wealth  indeed  there  is  at  his  house. 
Blessed  be  God,  I  got  all  mine  well  thence, 
and  lodged  it  in  my  office  ;  but  vexed  to 
have  all  the  world  see  it. 

September  10,  1666. 

A  FTER  supper,  I  home,  and  with  Mr. 
-^~~^  Hater,  Gibson,  and  Tom  alone,  got  all 
my  chests  and  money  into  the  further  cellar 

E 


146       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

with  much  pains,  but  great  content  to  me 
when  done.     So  very  late  and  weary  to  bed. 

September  \\,  1666. 

UP,  and  down  to  Tower  "NVharfe  ;  and 
there,  with  Baity  and  labourers  from 
Deptford,  did  get  my  goods  housed  well  at 
home.  So  down  to  Deptford  again  to  fetch 
the  rest,  and  there  eat  a  bit  of  dinner  at  the 
Globe,  with  the  master  of  the  Bezan  with 
me,  while  the  labourers  went  to  dinner. 
So  to  Sir  G.  Carteret's  to  work,  and  there 
did  to  my  content  shij)  off  in  the  Bezan  all 
the  rest  of  my  goods,  saving  my  pictures  and 
fine  things,  that  I  will  bring  home  in 
wherrys  when  the  house  is  fit  to  receive 
them :  and  so  home,  and  unload  them  by 
carts  and  hands  before  night,  to  my  exceed- 
ing satisfaction :  and  so  after  supper  to  bed 
in  my  house,    the  first   time    I    have  lain 

there. 

September  13,  1666. 

UP,  and  to  work,  having  carpenters  come 
to  help  in  setting  up  bedsteads  and 
hangings ;  and  at  that  trade  my  people  and 
I  all  the  morning,  till  pressed  by  publick 
business  to  leave  them  against  my  will  in  the 
afternoon  :  and  yet  I  was  troubled  in  being 
at  home,  to  see  all  my  goods  lie  uj)  and 
down  the  house  in  a  bad  condition,  and 
strange   workmen  going   to  and  fro  might 


OREAT     FIRE     OF     LONDON  I47 

take  what  they  would  ahnost.  In  my  office, 
and  people  about  me  setting  m}'  papers  to 
rights.  And  so  home,  having  this  day  also 
got  my  wine  out  of  the  ground  again,  and 
set  it  in  m}'  cellar ;  but  with  great  pain  to 
keep  the  porters  that  carried  it  in  from 
observing  the  money-chests  there. 

Sepietnber  14,  1666. 

/^APTAIN  COCKE  says  he  hath  com- 
^^^  puted  that  the  rents  of  the  houses 
lost  this  fire  in  the  City  comes  to  £GOO,000 
per  annum. 

September  15,  1666. 

T  T  P  betimes,  and  shaved  myself  after  a 

^      week's  growth  :  but,  Lord  !  how  ugly 

I  was  yesterday  and  how  fine  to-day  !    By 

water,  seeing  the  city  all  the  waj',  a  sad 

sight  indeed,  much  fire  being  still  in. 

September  17,  1666. 

T  PERCEIVE  many  Londoners  every  day 
-*■  come.  ...  By  Mr.  Dugdale  I  hear  the 
great  loss  of  books  in  St.  Paul's  Church-yard, 
and  at  their  hall  also,  which  they  value  at 
about  £150,000;  some  booksellers  being 
wholly  undone,  and  among  others  the}-  sa}- 
my  poor  Kirton.  And  Mr.  Crumlum,  all  his 
books  and  household  stuff  burned ;  they  trust- 
ing to  St.  Fayth's,  and  the  roof  of  the  church 
falling,  broke  the  arch  down  into  the  lower 


148       LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

church,  and  so  all  the  goods  burned.  A 
verj'^  great  loss.  His  father  hath  lost  above 
£1000  in  books  ;  one  book,  newlj  printed,  a 
Discourse,  it  seems,  of  Courts. 

Sepiejiiher  26,  t666. 

UP,  and  to  church,  where  I  have  not 
been  a  good  while  ;  and  there  the 
church  infinitely  thronged  with  strangers 
since  the  fire  come  into  our  parish. 

Scptejuber  30,  1666. 

TV /[■  R.  KIRTON'S  kinsman,  my  bookseller, 
-^  ' -*-  come  in  my  way  ;  and  so  I  am  told 
by  him  that  Mr.  Kirton  is  utterly  undone 
and  made  £2000  or  £3000  worse  than  nothing, 
from  being  worth  £7000  or  £8000.  That  the 
goods  laid  in  the  churchyard  fired  through 
the  windows  those  in  St.  Fayth's  church  ; 
and  those  coming  to  the  warehouses'  doors 
fired  them,  and  burned  all  the  books  and  the 
pillars  of  the  chiu'ch,  so  as  the  roof  falling 
down,  broke  quite  down ;  which  it  did  not 
do  in  the  other  places  of  the  church,  which 
is  alike  pillared  (which  I  knew  not  before) ; 
but  being  not  burned  they  stood  still.  He 
do  believe  there  is  above  £150,000  of  books 
burned ;  all  the  great  booksellers  almost 
undone :  not  Qv\y  these,  but  their  ware- 
houses at  their  Hall  and  under  Christ  Chiirch 
and  elsewhere,  being  all  burned.      A  great 


OREAT     FIRE     OF     LONDON  I49 

want  thereof  there  will  be  of  books,  speci- 
ally Latin  books  and  foreign  books  ;  and, 
among  others,  the  Polyglottes  and  new 
Bible,  which  he  believes  will  be  presently 

worth  £40  a-piece. 

October  5,  i666. 

TO  the  office,  where  we  sat  the  first  day 
since  the  fire. 

October  9,  1666. 

■p  AST-DAY  for  the  fire.  .  .  .  Thence  with 
-*-  him  to  "Westminster,  to  the  parish 
church,  where  the  Parliament-men ;  and 
Stillingfleete  in  the  pulpit.  So  full,  no 
standing  there ;  so  he  and  I  to  eat  herrings 
at  the  Dog  Tavern.  And  then  to  church 
again,  and  there  was  Mr.  Frampton  in  the 
pulpit,  whom  they  cry  up  so  much,  a  young 
man,  and  of  a  might}'  ready  tongue. 

October  10,  1666. 

T  HAD  taken  my  Journall  during  the  fire 

-'■     and  the   disorders   following   in    loose 

papers  until  this  very  day,  and  could  not  get 

time  to  enter  them  in  my  book  till  January 

18,   in  the  morning,  having  made  my  eyes 

sore  by  frequent  attempts  this  winter  to  do 

it.     But  now  it  is  done ;  for  which  I  thank 

God,  and  pray  never  the  like  occasion  may 

liappen. 

October  II,  1666. 


150      LEAVES     FROM     PEPYs'     DIARY 

IX/TY    Lord     Brouncker    did    show    me 
■'-'-'-     Hollar's  new  print  of  the  City,  with 
a  pretty  representation  of  that  part  which 
is  burnt,  very  fine  indeed. 

Novetnber  22,  1666. 

T  T  being  frost  and  dry,  as  far  as  Paul's, 
-^     and  so  back  again  through  the  City  by 

Guildhall,  observing  the  ruins  thereabouts 

till  I  did  truly  lose  myself. 

December  24,  1666. 


c5M). 


Edinburgh : 
T.&-  A.  Constable,  (late)  Printers  to  Her  Majesty 


f  f\5 
70  (_ 


THE  LIBRARY 
JNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

Santa  Barbara 


iOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DA 
STAMPED  BELOW. 


J  A      000  317  711    0 


.■^•; 


y-A  llhl 


